A Collaborative Process
by glintwarsgreatest
Summary: AU. Katniss is a 20 yr old college student in summer session before her Junior Year. She is a mess mentally, and emotionally. As her past continues to haunt her she surrenders herself to dangerous substances and physical interactions. One day she meets a boy, & she begins to learn that sometimes the people you least expect are as messed up as you are. Rated M w/ good reason.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to my new AU. I know there is a lot of unsavory censorship happening on FF right now, but I don't have access to AO3 until 2013. I do however have a tumblr under the username glintwarsgreatest, which I use to update on my writing process and give previews out on a whim. I will also be working on creating a blogspot or a live journal in the next few days. If you want to read my other AU, "The Hard Road Taken" I hope you do so. These two stories will be vastly different.**

**OK so after that little note here are some warnings: This story contains the following: sex. Rough language. Drug Use. Alcohol Abuse. Mental Abuse. Physical Abuse. Self Harm. Later on it will contain the following trigger warnings: Suicide, Rape, and Violent Death. I'm really not kidding around with those warnings either. This story is loosely based around my own life in high school/college and as a young adult.**

**A quick summary: Katniss is 20 years old in her second summer at college before her Junior year officially starts. (I'm basing the college town around Florida State in Tallahassee where I went but I never come out and say it. But if you recognize some places I describe that's why.) She is a mess mentally, and emotionally, as her past continues to haunt her, causing her to rely on illegal substances to calm her mind. When she continues to run into a man who always manages to get under her skin she is taken on a journey of self discovery, as well as learning that sometimes the people you would least expect are as fucked up as you are.**

**Here we go. (Sorry for any grammar mistakes or spelling errors. I don't have a beta and its late as I type this).**

* * *

I woke up on the cold hard floor of the tiled bathroom, not for the first time, and definitely not for the last. I struggled to lift my upper body up for a few seconds to take in my surroundings before collapsing with a loud groan. I used my arms one more time to flop myself off my stomach and onto my back, shielding my eyes from the light coming from the small window above the toilet.

"Fuck." My voice was hoarse, and based on the smell coming from my mouth I had thrown up last night. Judging by my lack of clothing I had also been what some people refer to as "wild and out Katniss". I looked around from my spot on the floor for my phone, finding it on the edge of the tub. I had a lot of texts and missed calls.

A standard "morning after blacking out" rule is to not read text or answer calls from unknown numbers, so I went straight to Gale's and Madge's messages. Madge's were the standard "let me know that you're alive" texts that I've come to expect given my penchant for blacking out all the fucking time. I quickly text her back telling her I'm alive and not in some stranger's bed, and that I would see her later for the details before opening Gale's awaiting messages. Gale and Madge are the only two people at this school I actually consider "friends", the main difference between the two of them being that I don't have sex with Madge, but I do with Gale. He's hot, he's a fun friend, and more importantly I don't always have to shave because he doesn't give a shit.

* * *

**Gale:** _Yo Catnip. Did you go home as alone as I did?_

**Gale:** _And Glimmer doesn't get here until 9pm so get your ass over here in the morning._

**Me:**_ I need to shower. Also if you wouldn't mind doing me a favor, I 'd like for you to fuck my hangover away. Be there in 30 mins._

* * *

I used to care about how crass I had become over the past few years, but lately I had stopped caring. I didn't care what other people thought of me, and I really didn't care about what I thought of myself. Or actually, I think I cared about my own self-perception too much, which is why I haven't been consistently sober in over 3 years. But until the booze doesn't clear my head and the random sex stops being good I have no intentions to stop.

I pulled myself up and into the shower, examining my new bruises from the night before. I vaguely remembered falling off a bar stool last night, which explained why my ass hurt so bad, but it was noting a few bars of xanax wouldn't fix. After I washed my hair, body, and brushed my teeth, I braided my hair and threw on a pair of shorts and an oversized sweatshirt. The best part of Gale being my fuck buddy is he didn't care what I looked like in my clothes, so I never have to dress up. I grabbed my purse and keys before heading out the door of my little one bedroom apartment towards my car.

* * *

In my little piece of shit car I pulled on a pair of sunglasses and lit a cigarette. It wasn't a long drive to Gale's but it wasn't a quick one either, and when my stomach grumbled I pulled out my phone to call him.

"Katniss you on your way?" He sounded annoyed. He was probably already hard and I was making him wait. Good for me.

"Calm your tits Hawthorne. Yes I'm on my way. Do you want food? I'm fucking starving."

"Kat I've got bacon, beer and weed. Seriously. Do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars." I rolled my eyes, and I could hear the porn he was watching in the background.

"Gale I swear to God I meant it last time when I said no more lesbian porn while we fuck. It's distracting. Be there in 5." I ended the conversation and finished my cigarette, flicking it out of the window. I absentmindedly remembered having a paper due in three days. Shit. Looks like I was going to the library tonight.

My car pulled into Gale's house's driveway and I didn't even knock before I opened the door. One of his douche bag roommates was sitting on the couch and we ignored each other as I walked directly to Gale's room, though I noticed he did turn the volume on the TV up. A lot. I grinned, because now I was going to make sure I was extra loud just to piss the little prick off, and I flung open Gale's door.

He was sitting on his bed watching the TV on his desk, but he turned it off when I walked in, turning his stereo on instead. I rolled my eyes at his choice of music, which was predictably dubstep – but I have to admit the temp matched our fucking. Fast, rough, and loud. I closed the door behind me as Gale took his shirt off and scooted to the edge of the bed. I pulled my sweatshirt off and walked over to him.

"Cato turned the volume up on the TV super loud. I fucking hate that guy." I pulled my hair out of its braid, pulled my pants off and straddled his lap.

"And?" Gale knew what I was trying to say and knew I hated dirty talk, but unless I told him what I wanted I wouldn't get it. So I grabbed his hair and yanked his head away from where he had been kissing my neck, looking him square in the eyes.

"So you should put that huge dick you're so proud of to work and make me scream so loud and come so hard he moves his cunt ass out." He grinned at me and I felt how much harder he got when I talked to him that way. If anyone from high school had just heard what I had said, they probably would have taken me to the hospital to see if I had a brain tumor; to say I've changed since I left my hometown would be a gross understatement. I was brought back to reality by the searing pain coming from my left nipple, and I felt myself get instantly turned on. I groaned and Gale slapped my ass in response. I began to grind my hips into his lap, his athletic shorts still between us.

"Fuck Katniss. You're so wet you're soaking my shorts. Is that what I do to you? How bad do you fucking want my dick?" Gale talks this way only when we're having sober sex. I sued to tune it out because I hate it, but he cut me off for two weeks and it's too difficult to find unattached sex with someone as good in bed as Gale that I pay attention now. I don't hate it any less though.

"You fucking feel how wet I am. Shouldn't be too hard for you to figure out how bad I want it." He growled at me and flipped me off his lap, onto my back on the bed, and he tore his shorts off. Ah there it is, the reason he can say whatever he wants to me. Honestly his dick was perfect – and the cocky asshole knew it. He grabbed my calves and pulled me across the bed towards him. He started rubbing his head against my clit and the rest of my pussy and I moaned. Really really loudly.

"Want to know what I'm going to do to you Katniss?" His eyes were dark, and when he pushed the top of his cock in quickly I almost started to actually whine.

"Tease me until I get pissed off and leave?" I was literally panting at this point, and he slid his entire shaft up and down me as punishment for smarting off.

"No smartass. I'm going to take you from behind, I'm going to slam in you so hard and so fast that you'll think your fucking teeth are going to fall out and then you're going to wrap that smartass mouth around my dick and I'm going to come in your mouth." My eyes rolled back in my head. Something was seriously wrong with how much that turned me on.

"How about instead of talking about it you fucking do it Gale?" I was ready to go and I consider foreplay something that only pussies that like to lay around watching shit like "The Notebook" like to do. Gale took the hint, flipping me over, onto all fours, and my hands gripped the sheets in a vice like grip. Gale slapped my ass so hard I knew it would bruise.

"You want me inside of you?" he growled at me, slapping my ass again and I groaned. "Tell me Katniss."

"Gale I want you inside of me." I moaned as he reached between my legs and ran his fingers over me once, before spreading my legs a little wider.

"Louder. So the whole neighbor hood can hear how bad you crave my cock." I almost sighed. I hate when he does this shit. I need to invest in a gag, but yelling would piss Cato off which is something I really enjoy doing, so I give in.

"Gale please fuck me! I need you inside of me!" I screamed in a high pitch voice, like the porn starts he likes to watch so much, and he didn't hesitate to slam into me any longer. He was holding my hips so tight to keep me upright, and he was slamming into me so hard it almost hurt; which is coincidently how I like it.

"Fuck me faster Gale." I practically snarl it at him, and he followed my request instantly. At this speed and in this position there was a good chance my tits were going to actually be shaken off of my body, but they weren't anything special anyways. I was moaning so loudly I was pretty sure I was going to lose my voice, until it turned from moans into shouts and screams of "Yes!" and "Fuck!". When my orgasm hit, I could feel myself shaking, and when Gale got close to his own he pulled out of me, and flipped me around before pushing my head down to where he wanted my mouth to be. I slide off the bed, my legs spread, and put my mouth around his cock to deep throat him. He thrusts into my mouth and I began to finger myself furiously to get to a second orgasm. He grips my hair hard and I taste him come in my mouth as my body jerks in my own hand. Gale pulls me to stand, and I crawl backwards onto his bed. He joins me, leaning over to his nightstand and lighting a joint. As we pass it and watch Swamp People, I hear Cato say something alone the lines of "fucking finally" and Gale and I dissolve into a fit of laughter.

I wake up an eternity later, naked in Gale's bed. I can feel his arms around me, his breath on my neck. No. I have to get out of here. Spooning is not part of this deal. We fuck. I sleep at home in my bed by myself after we fuck. I start to shrug myself out of Gale's arms, but he tightens them around me, bringing my back flush against his chest, and kissing my neck.

"Go back to sleep baby." He nuzzles me with his nose, and I know he's still asleep but right now the last place I want to be is wrapped in his arms as he calls me baby. I feel like I'm going to puke but I'm stuck, his arms are too heavy, so I give in and fall back asleep, the taste of acid in my mouth.

The last thing I'm aware of as I drift back to sleep is Gale dreamily saying my name, and as I fade to black, terror grips my soul.

* * *

When I finally reawake, I am alone. I can hear the shower running and I know Gale is inside washing the smell of my cum off of him before his girlfriend comes to town. I shrug my clothes on and take my "thanks for all the orgasms" gift to Gale out of my purse and toss it on his bed. We have this great system where we fuck, and give each other free doses of whatever we're currently in possession of. He'll be happy when he gets out of the shower and finds his new bag of Klonopin and Xanax. His girlfriend Glimmer is fucking awful, and doesn't "let" him smoke weed or drink, so when he told me she was coming up this weekend I made sure the drugs would be useful. I take a xanax myself and exit his room.

I poke my head into the bathroom as I leave, and Gale throws back the shower curtain because apparently modesty is something he only practices with his born again Christian girlfriend. She's never seen his dick. She's missing out.

"You leaving Catnip?" Gale throws his arms on the shower rod and steam is billowing out of the shower around him. He looks like a fucking male model.

"Yeah, wouldn't want Glimmer to get here and have an actual heart attack." I'm leaning against the doorframe grinning at him. He groans.

"Fuck Glimmer. I hate when she comes to town." I laugh at him. He says this all the time, but for some reason he keeps on dating her. It probably has something to do with her money.

"You just hate that she won't fuck you." Gale flashes a grin that lets me know I'm partially right, and I sling my purse over my shoulder turning to walk away. As I do Gale yells at me from the shower.

"I'll miss you, call you the second she leaves sweetheart!"

The moment he jokingly calls me sweetheart I swear I can feel the bile in my stomach start to rush up to my mouth. Why? He always says that, and I've always known he was kidding, or I thought he was. Until he called me baby and muttered my name in his sleep, until I realized he looks at me differently when we go out, or how lately he hasn't been going home with anyone but me. Instead of responding to him I quickly leave his house and jump into my car.

As I bring a cigarette to my mouth I realize my hands are shaking - no my entire body is. I haven't eaten or drank anything all day, so the only thing on my stomach is whatever is left of last night's booze, a handful of xanax, and semen. I dig around the floor of my car, finding a half empty water bottle that I instantly drain. As I drive, I try to force myself to think of anything other than what I observed with Gale tonight, because if he knows I know, he'll act on his feelings; and I can't handle that. Not now. Not ever really. I don't want to be loved. I want to be fucked. Love breaks you. Not your heart (it breaks that too though), but your soul, your spirit, your fucking goddamned mind. Because when loves goes wrong and you're totally invested, there's absolutely nothing that can fix you after. People will lie and say that that shit mends over time, but that's rank bullshit spewed from the mouths of optimists who have never had anything bad happen to them. The only thing that helps is to dull the pain, however you can. Some people choose reading books or taking care of an absurd number of cats. I chose alcohol, drugs, and meaningless sex. It's easier to shift the focus off a broken heart if you fucking despise yourself, and a lack of sobriety helps that along nicely.

When I pull into my apartment complex, I'm on my third cigarette. I grab my mail on the way up, and ignore a wave from my neighbor Delly Cartwright, who is so used to my mood swings she just giggles at being ignored. If it weren't for the fact that she has carried me up the stairs and helped me into my apartment on more than one occasion, I would never acknowledge her. Usually after a night like that I bring her some weed brownies or something. It's not a friendship really, but it works.

Standing inside at my kitchen counter, I throw my mail on the counter top; and look at the stove clock. 7:37 pm. I really need to go to the library to write that paper, so I go into my room and gather what I'll need. Grabbing a backpack I stuff in my Mac Book and it's charger, a notepad, pens, a pack of gum, a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a blanket (because the library gets so cold), a water bottle, my wallet, and some deodorant. I take out my "unofficial" pill case, and pull out my safe from my closet.

When I was first starting to sell my medications in high school as a way to buy things I needed, I learned quickly how lucrative – and dangerous – the "business" could be. When I "expanded" my product base I bought a safe.

I pull out my medication bottles. I roll my eyes at my bottle of Zoloft, and discard it back into the safe. I quit taking it a week ago and I can already feel how clear my head is. My thoughts are unfiltered. It's dangerous, but I feel more like myself at least.

Finding the bottle I'm looking for, I shake some of the 30mg adderall into my hand and snap the top back on the orange pill bottle, closing my safe. I put all but one adderall into the secret pill case (actually an old matchbook box), and pull the 3 remaining xanax from my pocket to toss in as well. I change into sweatpants, a t-shirt, a zip up hooded jacket, thermal socks, and a pair of Adidas sandals. I plug my phone into charge and leave my backpack on my bed, heading back out into my kitchen.

It's 8:00 now, and I promised myself to be at the library by 9:00, when the fat douches leave to go out and the girls doing "frat laps" dutifully follow. If there's anything more pathetic than watching girls fight for the attention of guys like Cato who don't give two fucks about them, I hope I never have to see it. You can smell the desperation in the air – and it smells like home baked goods and hair products, and it wears Lilly and pearls.

I put my adderall on the marble kitchen counter top, and fish an old plastic Olive Garden gift card out of my junk drawer, tossing it next to the pill. I quickly down a glass of water, and eat a leftover piece of grilled chicken, so I have something on my stomach. I place the gift card on top of the pill and use my palm on the plastic to crush and grind it up. After repeating the action a few times, I use the edge of the card to form the orange powder into a straight, thin line. I pull out a dollar from my hoodie picket and tightly roll it to a usable size, sticking one end in my left nostril, and using a finger to close up my right one. I snort the line up, continuing to pick up the little leftover traces of powder before pulling out the money and wiping my nose with the back of my palm. Adderall burns when you snort it, and it tastes awful, but I can't ignore my pre-library tradition.

I clean up the counter, and tuck a cigarette behind my ear before finally going through my mail. As per usual the to-go menus and meal deal offer are intermixed with the occasional bill, but one letter catches my attention, and causes me to pour myself a scotch and water. The letter was addressed to me in my mother's handwriting. I grab the glass and a lighter and walk over to my apartment's balcony. I leave the doors open as I sit on the old chair I had stolen from a part once, putting my feet on the step stool I used as a "table". I lit my cigarette and take a long gulp of my drink, feeling the weight of the letter in my lap.

I haven't spoken to my mom in two years. Well, more than that really, but I haven't acknowledged her existence since I left for school, scholarships funding my way, letting me cut any and all ties to her. She hasn't tried to contact me either. I take another gulp of my drink, effectively draining it, and toss the glass inside. Picking up the letter I stare intently at it as I smoke, as if I'm waiting for it to just tell me what it says. I flick my butt over the balcony – because I know how much it pisses off the maintenance guys – and decide to not open the letter. She waited to years to say whatever is in that envelope; I can wait a few more days to read it.

Shrugging on my backpack and turning out my lights I trudge out my door and into my car to head towards the library, the letter obsessively rolling around my mind. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

**So that's the first chapter of this AU. Review or PM if you want a preview of the next chapter. Quickly, yes, unfortunately "frat laps" are a real thing. Also, next chapter we meet Peeta, get a little more back story on exactly why Katniss is so fucked up, and get to meet Madge. There are also a few more surprises in the next chapter.**

**Don't worry, Katniss will heal eventually, but it will take time. I will be alternating between my AU's. This one has more probability of being taken down, so go to my tumblr if that happens or I should have a link to the page I set up on an alternative site in the next chapter.**


	2. Chapter 2

I trudge up the stairs of the library to the 4th floor, not bothering to even stop at the three below it. I'll never be able to understand the people who come to the library to socialize under the pretense of "studying". Isn't that why there are bars? The 4th floor however is my oasis. It's always painfully quiet, there are no long tables, and the groups that come here to study actually do just that. There's a sort of camaraderie up here that comes with free drugs and cigarettes.

I find an empty table by an electrical outlet and set my backpack down, claiming my territory. I go about setting up my study area "just so" before I finally sit down. My paper is for my poetry class, but since the grad student who teaches it never takes attendance, I never go, and have no idea what it's actually on. I really did try to give the class a chance because I do really enjoy lit and poetry, but after listening to a group of self proclaimed "intellects" wax on poetically about the beauty of Sylvia Plath's multiple suicide attempts, I only go to class now to turn in assignments and take tests. I hate when people talk about the beauty in suicide or death, because if either is something you've experienced you know there isn't any beauty. Death is dreadful. Suicide is a release, and for some people it's the only peace they'll ever find. That's not beautiful. That's a harsh reality.

I click on the syllabus for class and look down under assignments. There are multiple choices but I decide to go with Choice 3.

"For your second paper, discuss an ancient philosophy that has transcended time and seeped into modern day poetry and literature, giving examples in both. Must be 3-5 pages, double spaced."

Well ok then. I sigh and decide what my next move should be. I could spend actual time on this and do actual research or I could to straight for an old personal favorite and bullshit the rest of the paper. I make my decision and make my way to the 5th floor, where I know the philosophy books are housed.

As I slowly peruse the isles I lose myself. I've always loved libraries. The smell of old books, the sheer amount of knowledge housed behind the walls of often unassuming buildings. You don't have to speak to a soul but you're never alone in a place like this. I allow my fingertips to trail over the spines of the old musty books until I reach my destination.

When I was a kid, I would always lose myself in books. I didn't have many friends, because I preferred the company of fictional characters and silence, and when you're 11 the other kids think that's weird. Most kids don't read their first novel at 7 years old either I suppose. While my mom was always worried I was some sort of social pariah, my dad fed my obsession. For my 13th birthday, he packed a suitcase and a bunch of food and we rode up to the small hunting cabin he kept in the Georgia Mountains. To this day I've never been in a more serene or beautiful place. The air was always so crisp, and you couldn't help but fill your lungs to the brim with it every time you journeyed outside. After a day of hunting we had transversed back to the cabin and he had presented me with a set of books on philosophy. They were beautiful; hard covers, golden paper, silk red bookmarks, with the works of ancient men written on the pages. My dad was the smartest man I had ever known, with a grasp on what life really was and what it could be, and it made him happy. He passed his understanding onto me, but that's the thing. When you understand life to be full of love, and laughter, and simple moments it's easy to smile, to be optimistic. But that's not life. Life is a struggle, a race where humans try to make sense of humanity, emotions, pain and death, but just continually fuck up everything in the process. There's not a day that goes by that I don't long for ignorance from the truths that life forced upon me at a young age.

However, one of the reasons I'm able to so easily maintain my scholarships and grades without stepping foot in class, and get to instead spend my days and nights in a drugged and drunk stupor, is because I'm so well read that bullshitting a paper is laughably easy. I reach out towards the book of Plato's works and pull it off the shelf, quickly looking around me before opening the pages and taking a deep breath. I may not read as much as I used to – or ever really – but I still love the smell of a book. I wish I could bottle it and spray everything I own with it, but the stench of cigarette smoke will have to do instead.

Back at my table I plop back into my chair and pull on a pair of unnecessary soundproof headphones on an already silent floor. I flip on my "study" play list, full of depressing and melancholy songs, putting my feet up on the chair across from me as the sounds of the XX fill my ears. I can feel my fucking jaw starting to lock, my teeth grinding together, which is a lovely side effect of my consistent adderall abuse, and I scrounge around my backpack for the gum I packed earlier. I pop in a few pieces and begin to flip through the book I had plucked off the shelves minutes earlier.

Most people would roll their eyes at my enjoyment of ancient philosophy – it does seem pretentious even to myself – but the only class I've ever regularly attended and was sober for during my two and a half years here was in fact my ancient philosophy class. The idea that musings of men from thousands of years ago is still relevant and admired is fascinating to me even if I don't buy into most of what they had to say.

I reach what I'm looking for. Honestly for the assignment all of the musings on love in Plato's The Symposium could be used, but I'm only interested in Aristophanes' speech on soul mates. The basic idea is that before humans became what we are, we had "double bodies", and were so powerful that our predecessors had planned on trying to take down the gods. To stop that from happening, Zeus split us in half, effectively dooming us as a race to spend our entire lives looking for what we've lost, our soul mate, our other half. When it comes to an absolutely ridiculous postulation that has somehow transcended time and literature, I don't think a better one exists.

I pull out a piece of blank paper and begin to jot down a rough outline, but my craving for nicotine distracts me. The clock on my computer reads 10:30pm, and I've at least started on the outline so I deserve a little break. I pull out my lighter, new pack of cigarettes, my wallet, and phone and make my way down the stairs and out of the door.

It's a muggy and humid night; the air feels like a steam room when you breathe it in. Fucking Florida summers are the worst. I pull up my hood and sit cross-legged on top of one of the metal tables in the "smoking" area in front of the library. In front of where I sit is a huge green, where on any given sunny day students can be found laying out, playing Frisbee, or just lounging around. I've never been one of them, and frankly they annoy me.

I light my cigarette and inhale its fucking beautiful toxicity deeply. I feel the nicotine wash over my body, the tension brought on by the adderall rolling off me temporarily in waves. I close my eyes and throw my head back, exhaling slowly. Madge always goes on and on about how bad these things are for you, and she's right they are, but so is everything else I fucking do so I have no plans to stop this indulgence.

An amused chuckle next to me brings me immediately out of my own thoughts. I snap my head to the left of where I sit, to see a tall, muscular boy eyeing me in obvious amusement. He's fucking gorgeous. His blonde hair is shaggy, his stubble pure perfection, and I'm pretty sure you could cut lines with his defined jaw. He's wearing a blue v-neck and a pair of jeans that fit him really – really well, and one of his eyebrows is cocked at me.

"Can I help you?" my tone is harsh, because not only has he interrupted my cigarette alone time, but he is looking at me like I just told him I actually think unicorns exist.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, but you look like that cigarette is better than sex. I was wondering if I could bum one." His voice is deep and sexy as hell. I dangle my own cigarette from my lips and toss him the pack. He pulls one out and walks over to join me.

"I uh need a light." I roll my eyes at him and flick my thumb over my lighter, bringing the flame to life. He leans forward, cupping his hands around mine to shield the fire, and looks up at me as he quickly lights his cigarette. The flame flickers in his eyes, and I don't know if I've ever seen a more beautiful blue. I am overwhelmed with a personal urge to sit on his face.

After he lights his cigarette and withdraws, he sits on the table top next to me. Usually such an invasion of my space would be weird, but smoking outside of the library at 10:45pm at night bonds people.

"Do you always come to the library so prepared?" I ask him as I take a drag, and I hear him snort.

"I've been here for three hours, and I already ran out actually. I guess that's what happens when you take to chain smoking to stay awake." He smiles at me, and my heartbeat quickens. I really need to lay off the adderall.

"Ah you see, if you were a seasoned veteran, you would know that to pull off a successful all nighter, you always bring a brand new pack with you. And that you can buy adderall, vyvanse, focaline, coke, or anything else on the 4th floor to help you stay awake." I pull out a new cigarette, lighting it with my almost finished one, and hand him one to do the same.

"Thanks." He mumbles and doesn't seem grossed out by my chain smoking, so maybe it really wasn't a pick up tactic like I had originally assumed. "So the 4th floor huh? I just transferred here so I don't know those kind of veteran secrets. Is it any quieter than the 2nd floor? Because if I have to listen to one more group of giggling girls I may burn the building down." I laugh. So apparently not all guys like girls throwing themselves at them. Gale eats that shit up.

"Yeah it's always quiet. I'm working on a paper and haven't even heard someone fucking cough." He hops off our shared tabletop, and standing in front of me sticks out his hand. I take it and he is grinning at me as he shakes my entire arm.

"Well, girl who I've just met, whether you meant to or not, you just inadvertently gained yourself a study partner. I'm Peeta by the way. " I slide my hand out of his and slowly climb off the table, looking him up and down. I didn't really want a study partner but if I had to have one at least he was a fucking man-god.

"Well Peeta, I'm Katniss. Get your shit and meet me on the 4th floor." I didn't wait to see if he had anything to say and immediately turned to walk into the building. I heard him laughing behind me.

"Alright Katniss, see you up there in a minute." I doubted he would actually be joining me. He looked like he had really just wanted some free cigarettes and I'm sure he probably had a table full of girls waiting for his return. How could he not? I was basically salivating over him in my own mind, so I'm sure the girls on their desperations rounds were basically flinging pussy at him. I rolled my eyes at the thought. I'll never understand girls who try so hard to land a man. I don't think I've ever actively pursued a guy before and I get laid all the time. I think they over complicate things by baking cookies and keeping their legs closed until its "Facebook official". If what you can do with what you've got going when you spread your legs is enough to make his eyes roll back in his head he'll always come back for more. Then again, those girls are looking for husbands and lovers. I'm looking for the best way to scratch an itch.

I sit down at my spot and pull out my pill case. I grabbed one of the orange pills and split it in half, putting one half back in the case, and setting the other on my computer track pad. A key to a successful all nighter is to properly space your drug intake, so three hours after a full 30 mg, I always take a half of one, to keep the buzz alive so to speak. I fumble through my backpack to retrieve my water bottle and sit up to take my medicine.

The tall figure of Peeta stands in front of me, donning a backpack and a sweatshirt, grinning at me. he motions exaggeratedly to the empty chair across form me and I nod. I can't believe he actually showed up. After he is settled he looks pointedly at the pill I have yet to take so I finally swallow it in response. He smiles at me as some of his hair falls in his eyes and I have to force myself to look away. The reaction he is causing in me is not something I fucking like, so I decide to ignore him. He soon proves that to be an impossibility however.

I 'm making fair progress on the intro for my paper when a piece of paper appears magically under my face. I look up questioningly at my "study partner" who once again has the same amusement in his eyes. I scowl at him and unfold the paper.

_Thanks for telling me about this place. You're right, it's much quieter. Dare I ask what you're working on?_

I sigh. I never passed notes in high school because I never understood what someone could have to say that was so important it couldn't wait until the bell rang. But I guess this was Peeta's way of observing the silence on the floor, so I quickly jotted down a reply.

_A paper for my poetry class, about an ancient belief that transcended time and therefore literature. And it's no big deal. Thanks for not talking or being annoying._

I slid the paper back to him and watched his amused expression turn thoughtful. I don't think I've ever seen someone with such an expressive face before. He looked up at me and caught me staring, and as he slid the paper back a cocky grin took over his face.

_So something like "eternal love" I'm guessing based off your book? And it's a struggle to keep quiet but if it makes you happy I won't ever speak again._

I couldn't help the small smile on my face as I shook my head jokingly at his contribution to this conversation.

_Actually I chose to talk about "soul mates" or our other halves. My teacher is a sap so she loves that kind of shit. It'll be an easy A. And if that's a promise you may be my new best friend._

I slide it back to him and don't make any pretenses of continuing my work. He has somehow won himself my full and undivided attention, which is usually a hard thing to accomplish. One time during sex with Gale I ordered a pizza.

_Ah, not a believer in soul mates are we Miss. Katniss? And I will gladly become your mute best friend if it means I can continue to study at your table._

At this point we had both abandoned our work, but I planned on being here until the sun rose so I could waste some time. I gave him my response.

_It's Miss. Everdeen. And no, I don't believe in that kind of mythical fairytale nonsense. Am I to understand you do Mr. Peeta? And you are more than welcome at my table….. if you can handle it._

I slid the paper back to him and smirked. I was starting to understand the deal with passing notes.

_Katniss Everdeen. Nice name. I'm Peeta Mellark. I think you'd be surprised at what I can handle. And yes I do happen to believe in that nonsense. Also it's worth noting that I still believe in Santa Clause._

I looked up at him and he playfully winked at me. I folded our conversation up and stuck it in my binder, leaning forward to where he was.

"Nice to meet you Peeta Mellark." I whispered as quietly as I could. He smelled like laundry and cinnamon. "Now tell me, when you aren't studying, do you like to drink?"

* * *

**And that is Chapter Two. I know I promised Madge but I decided to hold off on her until next chapter. What you can expect in chapter three: Madge, some more Peeta/Katniss flirting (much to the confusion of our lovely Miss. Everdeen), Delly, some more details about Katniss' past, and the interesting effect Peeta has on how she acts when she's not alone. As always, follow my tumblr (username glintwarsgreatest) for updates, and review/PM for a preview on the next chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I apologize for any errors in spelling or grammar. My computer is acting up and it made typing this difficult but I wanted to get it posted as soon as I was able!**

* * *

There are certain moments in someone's life when something happens and in a few moments everything they've ever known shifts. My dad always used to tell me the type of person you are is determined by how you deal with those moments. But then he died.

He would hate the type of person I became because of it.

Sometimes I wonder if these are the type of thoughts that run through the heads of my peers, as they get ready for a night on the town. I doubt it. They probably think about how much fun they're going to have, or get excited about the stories they'll get from a night of adolescent craziness. They pregame together so as to keep an even keel of intoxication, throwing their inhibitions to the wind together, as if that makes it ok. I prefer drinking alone, so that way I can deal with being subjected to people's inane conversations and life troubles. Personally I don't think someone wearing the same outfit as me would even register on my radar, but then again I never really got a chance at being a normal "frivolous" girl. My issues run far deeper.

As I stand in front of my floor length mirror I do something I almost never do. I scrutinize. I'm wearing a simple skintight black dress, and a pair of black gladiator sandals. I have make up on, which almost never happens, and my hair is down instead of in a braid. I've been ready for over 30 minutes, but for some reason I keep on double-checking my appearance to see if I somehow have magically become beautiful. For someone as hyper self aware of herself as I am, I cannot figure out why I'm acting this way. Actually that's a lie. I figured it out; I just don't want to admit it. My reasoning for looking like an actual human being is the same reasoning I actually accepted Delly's invitation to come over and go out. I just don't like the reason so I'm ignoring it.

I go to sit on my bed and sip my whiskey and coke slowly. I want to text Delly and Madge and tell them I've changed my mind, but I can't. The prospect of what this night holds has me fucking spellbound.

It's been two weeks since I met my unofficial new "study partner" Peeta Mellark. He has somehow wormed his way into my life and my thoughts and to be honest it fucking confuses the hell out of me, which in turn pisses me off. I don't' "let things" happen. I shut people out unless they have a use – Madge keeps me alive and has known me since we were four so she never asks me "what's wrong", she already knows; and Gale keeps me in dick and weed. I can't see a use for Peeta. But I can't shut him out either. I don't go out of my way to talk to him, just an occasional heads up for when I'm planning to study. He always shows up. When I saw him leaving Delly's the other day I was almost afraid he was stalking me, but he told me they were childhood friends. The only place I'm safe from him is at Gale's, but even then – and at the most inopportune moments – he sneaks into my mind. I'm caught between intrigue and hatred for Peeta Mellark, and it fucking terrifies me.

The sound of someone knocking on my door yanks me out of my thoughts. I call out to tell whoever it is I'll be there in a minute, and I take the time to dip my cigarettes into the small bag of cocaine Gale gave me yesterday, before deciding to just bring the whole thing with me. Cocaine is the only drug that scares me, due mostly to the fact that I like it entirely too much. I reach in a rub some around my gums, before draining my drink and finally answering the door.

Madge eyes me up and down in shock before walking in without a greeting.

"Hello to you too." I mumble, closing the door behind her. She has bags in her hand and fishes around in one before extracting two beers and handing one to me. She settles herself on my counter and I lean on the one opposite of her perch.

"So what's with the get up?" her blue eyes are amused, because she already knows, but the bitch wants me to tell her it's because of Peeta out loud.

"No reason. Just have to remind everyone I'm hot shit every once in a while." She rolls her eyes, but I won't give her the satisfaction of hearing that I'm hoping to impress a certain blonde man. Also saying it out loud would mean I'd have to admit it to myself and I'm entirely too sober for that shit.

"What ever you say Kat." She sips on her beer while I pound mine. I've never been one to "enjoy the taste" of booze. If I could inject alcohol intravenously I would probably never drink it again. Madge sighs when I pull a liquor bottles from my cabinet.

"How many deep are you?" Madge is the only person alive who knows why I am the way I am, and it's no secret she doesn't like how I act because of it. But she knows better than to try and stop it.

"Not nearly enough. That's how many." I pull out a to-go cup and fill it to the brim. As nice as Delly is, I'm assuming she's a vodka girl, and I'd rather snort arsenic than drink that shit, so I'm going to walk next door to go cup in hand. I inform Madge of this as well, and after another eye roll she hops off the counter.

"When we're not in college anymore Everdeen, people are going to think you have a problem instead of saying you're a legend."

"Well then they'd finally be right about something." Madge sighs deeply at my response, knowing I fully embrace my issues because they help me to run from the real ones, which is why she doesn't try and stop me. It's when I stop running that the real shit show begins, and neither of us wants to relive that again.

* * *

Delly throws the door open before we even get a chance to knock, with so much gusto and bubbly energy that I immediately wish I had taken a xanax. Or 12. She's talking a mile a minute as she pulls me into a hug, and I watch as Madge escapes to the kitchen under the pretense of "finding the fridge", leaving me all alone with Delly. If looks could kill the one Madge is currently receiving from me would fucking behead her.

"Katniss you look amazing! Seriously, how can I get a body like that?" Delly is gushing and I hate it but before I have a chance to sarcastically reply, Madge, who has reappeared, does it for me all while shooting me a warning look. Play nice.

"Delly if you manage to get that secret out of her, I'll pay your rent for the next two years! I've known her since we were four and she's never even told me!" Madge is sometimes my saving grace, because my answer of "Well drugs help" would have probably made this pregame a little awkward. With Delly occupied I pluck a straw off the table and plunge it into my cup, before walking over to the balcony, where I can see Gale through the window. I step through the door and slid it shut, and he offers me a lighter for my cigarette.

"Het Catnip. Looking good." I roll my eyes at him.

"If everyone is going to make a big deal when I dress up I'm never doing it again." He laughs before looking around him wildly. I understand immediately. "So Glimmer's here I take it."

"Yeah she's inside with one of the many other blondes. One of her friends that she's staying with is in Delly's sorority I guess." I can't help the snort his words illicit from me. Glimmer never stays nights with Gale because it would be "improper" and we've learned to take advantage of her prudishness. We don't risk it by going to his place, but you'd be surprised just how hot rushed car sex can be.

"That reminds me. You owe me because getting the cum stains out of my backseat wasn't the easiest thing I've ever done." I playfully whisper at him, and this time it's Gale snorting at my words.

"Oh I'll repay you for your troubles, don't worry." We spend the rest of our time in silence, but between Gale and I silence has always been comfortable. I try to ignore the way his eyes are lingering on me the way they've taken to doing the past few weeks, by sipping my drink, when the door is thrown open behind me by Madge, who has a positively mischievous look in her eyes.

"Katniss there's a man here asking about you." I can feel my cheeks burn, as well as the hard stare Gale has turned on me. I turn around to say something extremely rude to my best friend, when I see Peeta standing in the living room, eyes on me, and somehow once again he has my full attention.

Definitely should have taken a xanax.

Like I originally guessed, Peeta's effect on women is impressive. The girls in Delly's sorority are eye fucking him up and down while they whisper and giggle in each other's ears. He does look good. How he manages to look like a model in a simple black button up and jeans is beyond me but once again I'm overwhelmed with a desire to see him naked. I'm completely unaware of how long we've been staring at each other until Madge nudges my elbow. Shit. I must have completely missed everything she said.

"Huh?" Madge snorts and Delly giggles.

"So you know Peeta already?" Delly is enjoying this. I am not.

"Their eye fucking didn't give it away Dell? Katniss didn't get dressed up like that for Gale that's for sure." I shoot Madge a look while Gale noticeably shifts in demeanor, sizing Peeta up while doing so. Madge doesn't care for our "non-relationship" and insists Gale has feelings for me, but proving her point at Peeta's expense grates on my nerves for some reason I can't really pinpoint.

"Oh my God. You're the library girl aren't you?" Delly is literally gushing but my attention is caught by what she has to say. I turn to her, abandoning mine and Peeta's "eye fucking."

"He told you about me?" Delly and Madge share a look, one of those looks I don't understand but the majority of girls do. Delly's lips are pursed into a smirk, and her eyebrows raised, but before she responds we're interrupted by a deep voice.

"Only good things I promise." I whirl around to see Peeta standing behind me, wearing what I'm learning is a trademark smirk. Before I can respond Delly is on him, hugging him and talking like if she doesn't she'll die, but even as he answers her, his gaze never leaves mine. I can feel Gale and Madge on either side of me, Madge beaming, Gale fuming. This pregame certainly got interesting very quickly. I can't understand how one person can have such an effect on everyone in a an entire room ….. or why he is mouthing the word "cigarette" at me. I nod and head outside, knowing full well he'll follow, as well every set of horny eyes in the room. I may not care for any of the girls currently in Delly's apartment – Madge and Delly aside – but I don't necessarily want them to all notice me. I pride myself on being so painfully ordinary I could fade away. Not tonight apparently. Not around Peeta Mellark.

Peeta closes the door behind him, and quiet instantly overtakes us. He pulls out two cigarettes, lighting them together, and hands one to me, a grin on his face.

"Sorry if Delly embarrassed you, she's just overly animated. Has been since we were kids." He pushes his hair out of his face and takes a seat, so I do the same.

"I've lived next to her for two years. Believe me, I've noticed." I take a drag of my cigarette and try to not focus on how his shirt hugs him in all the right places. I hope to God Gale can get away from Glimmer tonight because I am going to need to get fucked. Hard.

"Ah so you're the neighbor who gives her weed brownies. The first time she told me I assumed you were some guy trying to get laid but I'm going to have to rethink all the stories she's told me. Unless you are actually bringing her weed brownies to get laid. In which case I'm going to dream about all the stores she's told me." Peeta takes a drag of his cigarette and waggles his eyebrows at me. I take a long sip of my drink and will away my blush.

"Sorry to disappoint but unless Delly is the most beautiful Transvestite alive, there were no sexual pretenses to the brownies. More "Thank yous" for keeping me alive. You're a fucking pervert you know that?" Peeta full out laughs at this and I can't help but to join him. He nods at my drink when he's calmed down and I hand it to him. He takes a long sip and his face scrunches up, making it my turn to laugh.

"Holy fuck is that straight whiskey?" He sticks out his tongue and closes his eyes trying to get over his shock.

"Yeah it is you big pussy. Too strong for you?" I clench the straw between my teeth and drink from it like a toddler sipping apple juice.

"No I was just expecting something else, especially since all I saw in there was vodka and beer." I snort. Totally knew Delly would be a vodka girl.

"Not a big fan of clear liquor. So I came prepared." He chuckles as he eyes my to-go cup and stamps out his cigarette.

"Is there any way I can convince you to share?" I nod at him and he holds his hand out to me. I take it and he helps me up, and when he lets go I find myself wishing he hadn't.

"Yeah we just have to go next door to my place."

"Lead the way oh giver of whiskey." I smirk at him and make a beeline to the door of Delly's, purposefully avoiding all eye contact. I have a reputation, and taking Peeta back to my place this early in the night is just confirming it in the minds of everyone watching. What they don't' know is if I had really managed to land Peeta in 30 minutes I'm pretty sure we would be fucking on the balcony in full view of the entire party, because damn he is hot. Also I would have expected a trophy after. And congratulatory high fives. The only stare that bothers me is the one coming from Gale, which I can feel burning into the back of my head, but I decide to ignore it for now.

* * *

Once inside my apartment, I indicate to him where the glasses are, and after he retrieves one, I open my liquor cabinet. His eyes go wide.

"That's quite the collection you have." My cheeks burn.

"Yeah what can I say? I like good liquor." He laughs as he pulls out a bottle of Evan Williams.

"Your definition of good is a lot different from mine apparently." I laugh and shove past him, reaching into the cabinet to pull out a bottle of Jim Beam. I pull back and am made very aware of how close our bodies are. I can smell him, a mixture of his cologne and cinnamon.

"Is this better?" My voice is low and little huskier than I'd like. I might as well be wearing a sign that says "If you were to fuck me dirty on the counter right now I'd be ok with it." He smiles at me and moves his face in closer, putting his lips close to my ear.

"Yes, that's exactly what I want." He pulls away, taking the bottle as he goes, and I can't move. I have to physically collect myself and calm my heart beat. I need something to calm me down, otherwise I'm going to make an ass out of myself tonight once I'm drunk, but for some reason I care about what this strange man would think of me if I ran off to my room to down some bars. So I don't.

He finishes pouring his drink and begins to meander around my apartment. It's sparsely decorated; a couch, an armchair, a coffee table, and a TV stand the only furniture. A yoga mat sits in the corner, with an incense holder, and my DVD collection sits piled in another. Peeta bends down and begins to shuffle through the cases as I watch cautiously from the entryway before making my way over to him and perching on the arm of the couch.

"You have an interesting taste in movies. Big Scorsese fan?" He holds up my cop of The Departed.

"Yeah I guess. I'd rather watch an action movie with a good story line over a romantic comedy I guess." He laughs.

"Of course you would." He continues his search, stopping when he reaches my collection of Disney DVDs. "That's an impressive Disney collection." I gulp and the words are spilling out of me in a whisper before I can stop them.

"Those were my sisters actually." I can feel my stomach churning and I'm aware that I'm picking at the fabric on the couch's arm with a vengeance. Out of the corner of my eye I see Peeta appraise the situation, smartly deciding to not push me.

"Alright. Which one of these is your favorite?" I'm so grateful for the change in conversation that I answer him truthfully.

"The Quiet Man actually." He grins at me.

"Mine's The Philadelphia Story in case you were wondering. But John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara are a good choice I guess. Next time I come over we'll have to watch it." And with that he walks away towards my room. Did he just invite himself over for a movie date? I'm sitting on the arm of the couch still, watching as he walks into my room as if he's been here hundreds of times, when it finally registers on me that Peeta is in my room. I nearly trip over my feet trying to get to him before he flips on the lights, but of course I'm too late.

For the lack of personality the rest of my apartment has, my room has double. It's my escape, my oasis. There are weeks when I don't leave it, and don't make an effort to. My bed is covered in blankets, most hand-made, my bookshelf is crammed to the brim with all the books I've ever owned, my desk littered with my cd's and school supplies. My walls are adorned with old record covers, all the records stacked in the corner next to my dad's old turntable. A shelf above my dresser holds my bongs, pipes, and impressive shot glass collection. Peeta looks around and grins at me as he takes his time inspecting every element. He stops at the bongs and raises his eyebrows at me.

"Do you smoke out of these or just decorate with them?"

"You mean those aren't vases?" I feign ignorance and he bursts out laughing as he continues looking around. He stands at my bookcase, and pulls out my volume of Edgar Allen Poe stories, before tucking it under his arm and flopping down unceremoniously on my bed. He sips his drink as he thumbs through the pages, and I feel so out of place in my own room, while he looks so at home it's unnerving. I'm trying to figure out the least rude way to ask him to get the fuck out when he speaks.

"You know, I hated in high school how they would harp on and on about The Raven or The Tell Tale Heart and never mention any of his other works." I feel myself drawn into his choice of conversation like a moth to a flame, and find myself jointing him on the bed, resting my back next to him on the headboard.

"And what would you rather them teach Mr. Mellark?" He's thoughtful for a moment.

"I understand why those stories are important, I do. But did you know The Murders in Rue Morgue inspired a bit of Sherlock Holmes? I would have eaten that shit up in lit class in high school. To know how intrinsically connected most writing is." He runs his hands through his hair. "Do you know what I'm saying?" I nod my head, taking the book from his hands.

"I do. And I love The Murders of Rue Morgue by the way. And MS. Found in a Bottle? I used to fucking read that shit obsessively." I find the story I mentioned last and it isn't until I hear my voice that I realize I'm reading out loud.

_"Of my country and my family I have little to say. Ill usage and length of years have driven from the one, estranged me from the other." _When I do catch myself reading I stop and close the book before taking a long drink.

"I can see why that story is your favorite." Peeta's eyes are closed and one of his hands is on my knee, his thumb moving methodically back and forth.

"Why's that?" My voice is almost a whisper, and I'm afraid he can hear my heart beating. He opens his eyes, and his blue blazes into my own grey.

"Being able to be a part of the past, with no one noticing or caring that you've disappeared." My face is inches from him as I answer in a whisper.

"And what makes you think that's why it's my favorite?"

"Because I know you better than you'd like to think. You want to be in the past without the painful memories or haunting dreams. But I won't tell anyone. That's all I've ever wanted too." He reaches around and runs a hand up my forearm, resting his forehead against my own. My eyes close and my breathing quickens.

"Katniss…" He whispers my name and I pull back to look in his eyes. He begins to speak again, and I'm dying in anticipation of whatever he is about to say, when a door flinging open startles me. Our moment has been interrupted.

By a very drunk and very pissed off looking Gale.

* * *

**So that's chapter 3! I guess you could say I have a thing for cliff hangers, but don't worry I think you'll like where I'm going with this one. It's important to say the least. **

**Next chapter will deal with this cliffhanger, and there will be some more fun Peeta/Katniss interactions.**

**Soon we will have a chapter from Peeta's point of view, and more and more of our main characters past will come out. I want it to happen naturally however so it will take some time. We'll learn more about Peeta's past as well, and see how they help to heal each other. (Hence the title of the story!) As always, PM or Review for a preview of Chapter 4, and follow my tumblr (username glintwarsgreatest) for little updates along the way! **


	4. Chapter 4

**The trigger warning I mentioned in the first chapter will come into effect in this chapter. Warnings for Rape (not a description but a discussion); Physical Abuse, Drug Abuse, and Suicide. **

**Also there is a shit in POV in this chapter, but it is indicated. **

* * *

I am shocked still. My instinct is to jump off the bed and away from Peeta, and put my body in between him and Gale. I'm overwhelmed with a need to protect him because drunk and pissed off Gale can get violent, and overly protective of things that aren't his. But Peeta has an arm over me, holding me down. Peeta is protecting me. I turn to him, and he looks very very pissed off. His jaw is set, his body tense, and I realize that he thinks it's because Gale is a threat to me. When he looks at me I briefly mouth the word sorry to him, but continue to cling to his arm. He is keeping me anchored.

"Gale what the fuck are you doing?" He is literally seething, and Madge appears behind him, her eyes wide.

"What am I doing? What are you fucking doing Katniss?" I can feel anger rolling off of both the men in this room. When did this become my life?

"I'm hanging out with Peeta. In my apartment, where you just fucking barged in." I turn my attention to Madge. "How did he get this drunk? Where's Glimmer?" Madge looks between Gale and I.

"Glimmer left."

"Why?"

"Because of how Gale started acting when you and Peeta came over here."

I clinch Peeta's arm more tightly, and he shifts so his body is in front of mine, pulling my legs around to his other side. I'm normally not ok with a man feeling a need to protect me, but right now I'm afraid that whatever is happening with Gale is going to shift Peeta's perspective of me. So I let it happen.

"And how did Gale start acting?" Peeta's voice is even, but there's a definite hint of menace lacing his words. Gale basically growls at him.

"What? You bring her back here to fuck her man? Get her drunk and get what you wanted?" Peeta flinches, and I touch his back. I want this to all go away, I want to crawl into my closet and shut the fucking worlds out.

"No. That's not the kind of guy I am."

"Well that's exactly the type of girl Katniss is." Gale sneers, and it's my turn to flinch. I look to Madge, and the fear that's in her eyes tells me she can see; she how close to the edge this is pushing me. Peeta notices her look as well, and turns to me; but I'm already shutting down. My eyes are filling with tears and the fear boiling inside of me is almost too much to handle. Peeta's eyes don't leave my face as he responds to Gale.

"Maybe that's who she is with you, but that's not who she is." I pull my knees into my chest, my fight or flight responses shutting down. This is too much, it's too much like what happened before. Gale is shouting now.

"Who the fuck are you man? Katniss who is this dude? Are you fucking him too? Do you fuck me in the morning and him at night?"

I hear Madge, but my eyes never leave Peeta's. I'm trying to focus on my breathing, to keep from slipping away. He is tapping a finger on my calf. He knows what I'm doing.

He's trying to help.

"Gale. Go. Now." Madge sounds stern and angry. She never gets mad unless it's about me, unless someone is hurting me or I'm hurting myself. Gale must turn to leave, but I hear him say something along the lines of "fucking whore" before a door slams. Peeta never stops his rhythmic tapping, and eventually I fall asleep, folding under the stress of it all.

* * *

**Peeta POV**

Katniss falls asleep in my arms after Gale leaves. I've only known this girl for two weeks, but she has a hold over me I can't explain. The first time I saw her, clad in sweats in 90 degree weather, smoking her cigarette like it was a lifeline, I was absolutely mesmerized. The fact that she didn't immediately return my fascination only made me want her more. Not want her like in an easy lay sort of way. Honestly I've never had problems with that, good genes I guess. But the moment she smiled at me for the first time it was like winning the lottery or some other corny metaphor. It's weird and I don't understand it, but really while she's here in my arms, I don't need to.

Madge returns after kicking Gale out and motions for me to join her. I do so reluctantly, closing the door to Katniss' bedroom behind me as I follow Madge out onto the balcony. Once the door is shut behind us, she sits, her head in her hands, trembling. I pat her back, and she looks up at me with sad and tired eyes.

"Peeta, I'm Madge. I think it's time was have a talk about Katniss."

* * *

I was 7 the first time my mom really hit me. not with a spoon, or a belt, but with her fists. I had accidently dropped a plate, and like that, it was as if the flood gates had opened.

When I was 10, I was five minutes late for curfew after a game of hide and seek. My mother had been making pasta on the stove top and she hit me with the spoon she was using. It burned me, above my ear. It's why I wear my hair long.

There were little instances like that. Where things would go from bad to worse. For the great men my dad and brothers are, they never defended me against her, but she wasn't beating the crap out of them so I guess a blind eye was easier. She would pick at my insecurities mercilessly, and by the time I reached high school I was a mess.

One day during gym, a kid hit me, and I lost it. Beat him within an inch of his life. I spent the next six months in juvie. Luckily for me, a mental therapist took the time to help me. I'm not a violent guy. Not at all. I just have triggers that can turn me into one thanks to years of abuse. It's why I transferred schools. A guy who was drunk at a bar at my last school shoved me. I hit him so hard I knocked him out and then I hit a wall until I broke my hand. I took a semester off and stayed at a mental rehab place before coming here.

I had decided to stay away from everyone and everything here until I met Katniss. It was like my will power was gone, but being around her didn't' make me feel weak or like a monster. It made me feel like I could be stronger. When I didn't kill Gale for the things he had said to her, about her, I was honestly surprised. But I realized when she touched my arm, or my back, how calm I felt. When she started to slip away I felt helpless, and now sitting with Madge I can tell Katniss is maybe as fucked up as I am. So I tell her okay, I'm ready to listen to what she has to say.

She runs her hand through her blonde hair and looks vacantly off into the distance.

"I've known Katniss since I was 4 years old. She was the smartest and funniest kid, and we were both kind of shy, so we clicked. I spent a lot of time with her family. Her dad was this great guy, he would sing and play the piano and Katniss, her little sister and I would dance along." She begins to rub her eyes as she pauses, and looks over to me. "Look. This isn't really my place to tell you this, and I've never told another living soul what I'm about to tell you, but she's been slipping away for the past few months, and in the short time you've known her you've really made an impact okay? So as much as I hate myself for telling you, I know she won't be mad at me, and if it get's worse I'm going to need help." I nod at her, and she sighs.

"When we were 14, Katniss had something horrible happen. It changed her. Hell, it changed me, but she dealt with it the beset she could. Therapy, meds. She wasn't better but she was trying to learn how to be. Then, one night, while she was at therapy, and her mom was grocery shopping, a man broke into her house, killing her dad and her sister before robbing the place. It was awful. They never caught him, and the Katniss that I knew was gone. Our senior year of high school, after a few years of partying and whatever drugs she was doing, she overdosed on roxies. She swore it was an accident but I know it wasn't. it freaked me out so much that she would leave me that she started her meds and her therapy again, because if there's one thing you should know about her, it's that if she loves you, she'll do anything and everything in her power to make herself better for you. But it's wearing on her. And I'm not reason enough by myself anymore." It's quiet for a minute as I try to take in everything I was just told.

"Madge why did you tell me all of that?" If my drive to protect Katniss after only knowing her a few weeks wasn't insane before, it sure as hell was now. Madge laughed a grim laugh.

"I know that girl better than I know myself. And I'm not an idiot. You look at her like she shits gold. She's going to take time and patience to understand what she feels about you. Can you be patient?" I nod and swallow thickly. "That's why I'm telling you. Because if she lets her guard down and falls for you, you will be the luckiest man alive. But don't rush her and don't push her because then we'll all lose her. And I'll fucking kill you if that happens."

"Duly noted." We sit in silence a few more minutes before I speak again. "Am I really that transparent about how I feel about her? "

Madge laughs at my question.

"To everyone but her."

* * *

**Katniss**

I wake up in a cold sweat. The nightmares have started again. Fucking awesome. They've gotten progressively worse over the years, darker, more real, more violent. Usually a really bad one happens when I've let shit hit the fan, or I've lost control. When I first realized the correlation I wouldn't' sleep for days. I would shove anything down my throat that would stave off sleep – coffee, energy drinks, adderall, cocaine; literally anything I thought would keep me awake and out of the dreams.

After two days of no sleep I would start shaking. After three, I would start hallucinating, trapped in what was basically a bad drug trip. When I would finally fall asleep I would be trapped in daylong nightmares, more vivid, and more realistic than what I had been trying to fight off in the first place. It's like once the depravity has a little more space in my mind, it roots itself in, latches on, until something happens where it can gain more a my mind. The dreams are never good. I doubt they ever will be again. Last night's was awful.

_I was standing in a room, blood covering the floor up to my hips, lapping against my stomach. I slipped and fell and felt something rise around me. Bodies. Horribly mutilated bodies of everyone I love, of every I've ever loved. My dad, my sister, Madge, Gale, even Peeta. I was screaming, crying, trying to figure out who was responsible, when I noticed a crazed looking psychopath looking at me through a window. Only it wasn't a window. It was a mirror. It was me. I was the reason they were all dead._

The dream keeps replaying in my mind and I have to run to my trashcan to vomit. I strip out of last nights clothes and hastily take a handful of pills, not even sure what they are before crawling under the blankets on my bed and begging my mind to just shut the fuck up. How do I always end up here?

As I feel my limbs start to go numb from the drugs and slip into sleep, I'm vaguely aware for the first time in a while how badly I hope that I don't wake up.

I live like this for I don't know how long. My phone says three days but it feels like weeks. Whenever you wish time would heal your wounds, it goes slower, at least in my experience it does. On the fourth morning I wake up to Madge rifling through my drawers. I watch her through clouded and hazy eyes until she sits down on my bed. She looks tired, and like she's been crying. Because of me. I lean over and vomit into the trashcan, and Madge holds my hair. I'm dry heaving at this point, my lips so chapped they are bleeding. I don't care. When I'm done, Madge lays down next to me so we are eye level and she sighs.

"You're going to hate me but I'm taking your drugs and liquor. Not forever, just until this is over. I know you can't help it, but I'm too afraid to leave you alone like this with our own pharmacy tucked away."

"Good. Thank you." My voice sounds awful, due to lack of use, lack of water, too much vomiting, and too much screaming.

"I should have done something earlier. I could tell it was getting bad again." Her voice is quiet. She's blaming herself for my current state of mind and it burns straight down into my soul.

"This isn't your fault Madge." She looks unconvinced, so I gather the little energy I have and take a deep breath. "Gale yelling at me. so pissed off, so mean…. It reminded me of him. I was there again. The things I let Gale do to me, that I tell him to do to me, you'd think I'd be able to handle him yelling at me like that. I guess not."

Madge's face is serious, and she closes her eyes.

"Katniss. Gale was pissed but he would never….. he would never rape you."

I cringe. I replay that night from my past almost weekly. Every time I walk up the stairs to my apartment at night. Every time I hear a drunken yell outside my window. Every time I walk to my car after a night class. But hearing the word, calling it was it was – it makes it more real. More undeniable.

"I know. At least I think I know that. But at the same time I never thought my neighbor would either." I shut my eyes. Madge hasn't brought this up in years and neither have I. I haven't talked about it in as long. I feel a cold hand on my cheek and I open my eyes, looking back at Madge.

"Cray is in jail. He's not coming out for a fucking long time." I nod, but logic doesn't really play a part in my fears anymore. If there's one thing I've learned it's that nothing is sacred, and no one is safe.

"If I asked you to talk to someone would you?" She asked me like she just asked me if she could kill my firstborn. Afraid of what I'll say, afraid I'll lash out. I'm the worst fucking person alive.

"I don't even know where I would go." I would though if I knew. For Madge. She pulls out her phone and starts to dial a number.

"I know someone who does." My interest is piqued.

"Who?" I'm almost positive I'm her only friend who would ever need psychiatric help. She looks at me for a moment searching my face, phone pressed to her ear before responding.

"Peeta."

* * *

**This chapter was fairly short I know, but that's due to what it contained. I know I said there would be more Peeta/Katniss interaction but I felt that trying to lighten the mood any would ruin the serious issues being discussed. Hope you all enjoyed, and the reviews you guys have been giving me have been positively wonderful for my spirit. Thank you so much. And as always don't forget to follow my tumblr; username glintwarsgreatest; if this story happens to be taken down. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry this took so long! It's a lot "lighter" than the last chapter but don't worry, the angst returns immediately after this. I just think we all needed a break and some fluff.**

* * *

"What?" There's anger in my voice, my heart racing in fear and I quickly grab Madge's phone from her ear hitting the "END" button.

"Katniss what the hell?" I toss her phone across the room, and it thuds against the wall.

"Why the fuck would you call Peeta to find a therapist for me?" I'm livid and I can tell Madge is annoyed. She sighs and I sit up pulling my knees into my chest. Holy shit I smell.

Madge rests her head against the headboard and begins talking, purposefully not making eye contact with me. I can feel my chest tighten against the panic rising in my chest. Her body language is telling me I'm not going to like whatever she's about to tell me.

"The other night after you passed out, Peeta and I talked." She's taking her time. She only does this when she's nervous about telling me something that could piss me off or send me into a tailspin.

"About. What." My voice is hard. I have a lot of displaced rage right now and I have a feeling it will soon belong to Madge.

"He was freaked out about what had happened. He told me a little about himself which is why I know he knows a therapist and I ….. I told him a little about you." Her voice trails off at the end, and I stop breathing. Madge has never breathed a word about me to anyone. Ever. I didn't think she ever would. She's looking at her hands, and by the tears pooling in her eyes, I can tell she never thought she would either.

"I didn't know what else to do okay? You've been out of it for the past few months. I mean do you even remember the last time you were sober? Because I don't. And don't tell me you're fine because I've been here with you before and I know better."

The tears are flowing from her eyes and I'm torn between my anger and an overwhelming need to comfort. I've put Madge through so much fucked up shit. I've ruined her life because I've dragged her down with me. I think on what she's said for a moment. Between the drugs and the booze I haven't been solidly sober for months, at least. I take a few deep breaths to steady and remind myself to not be mad at Madge. She's all I have left, and I can't drive her away.

"Has it been that obvious? I thought I was doing an okay job at hiding it." Now I'm not looking at her, afraid of what she'll tell me.

"Kat, its only ever obvious to me." I smile a small smile and finally look at my best friend.

"That's because you're the only one who cares." She looks over towards the phone and back at me.

"I think Peeta could care. If you let him." I bring the bottoms of my palms up to my eyes and rub hard. The last thing I want to do right now is talk about how I could develop a "relationship" with a boy I've known for two weeks.

"What did you tell him?" I'm afraid of her answer. There's so much she could have told him, and I'm fucking terrified he'll never look at me the same again. To say I'm "damaged goods" would be an understatement. I'm a hot fucking mess of a miserable human being.

"Nothing too detailed. Nothing about Cray. Just enough to see if he can help." She looks so earnest that I believe her. I lick my dry chapped lips and nod at her words.

"You can call him." Madge grips my hands in her own and makes eye contact with me.

"Thank you." I nod as tears fill my own eyes, and Madge scrambles over towards her phone. I leave my room and make a beeline for the shower, not wanting to hear the conversation about to take place in my room. I'm not a huge fan of therapy. My last therapist pitied me and my life story, but he thought that he could "fix" me. What he soon came to realize was that all of his suggestions of joining a support group, going to church, making amends with my mother and other nonsense was falling on deaf ears. So, like most people in my life, he gave up on me.

I stand in the scalding hot shower motionlessly, letting the water beat down on me, turning my skin red. Sometimes I like to imagine a shower like this after one of my benders can clean me right down to my soul, and erase everything that's ever happened, affording me a new start. However a shower is just a shower and my life and past will always be awful no matter how clean my skin is.

I stand under the water until it begins to run cold, sighing as I turn off the stream. I wrap myself in a huge towel, brush my teeth and braid my hair, before walking out into my room. Madge is changing the sheets on my bed and I wordlessly pull on a pair of sweats. I settle myself in my desk chair and watch her clean, waiting for whatever she had to tell me.

Once she is satisfied that my room is clean she reaches a hand out to me and gives me half a xanax, pointing towards a glass of water on my desk. I take the pill and drain the water under her watchful eye, and then eat the apple she had set next to the glass. Once I'm finished Madge sits on the bed and begins.

"Peeta said there's a man who he trusts that he thinks you'll like. He said if you want, they grab coffee once a week and you could tag along to test the waters." I swallow and pick at the skin on my thumbs.

"Yeah. That sounds okay."

"Good. Well get changed because he'll be here to pick you up in 30 minutes." I snap my head up as my eyes bore into Madge's face, which she is currently facing anywhere but at me, in an attempt to hide her amusement. Tricky bitch.

"You're the fucking worst Madge." She grins openly at me, the mischievous glint back in her eyes.

"Want me to find that hot little dress from the other night? I'm pretty sure Peeta would love to see that again." I throw my apple core at her and she shrieks, before dissolving into laughter.

"Shut the fuck up asshole." I scowl at her as she continues to laugh. After she collects herself, she walks over and throws the core away.

"But seriously. Please change out of the sweats. And put on a fucking bra." And like that the heavy part of our day has been lifted. Madge has always been good at relieving the tension, and I've become acutely aware that she has no idea what is means for me. I stand up to change, and quickly pull her into a tight hug. She makes a small sound of surprise before wrapping her arms around me.

"Thanks." I mumble. It's such a hard word to say when you're trying to convey so much with it. Madge pulls back, smiles at me, her eyes glistening, and pats my cheek.

"I'm leaving some of your meds and one bottle of whisky. Also you're taking me to dinner this weekend." I laugh at her demand but nod my head.

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. Now go and get dressed." I smile, rolling my eyes and do as I'm told.

I change into a pair of jeans, a simple pale blue shirt, and a pair of flip-flops. When I walk out into the living room Madge gives me a once over and purses her lips.

"What?" I throw my hands up defensively.

"You don't own a nice summer dress?" one of her eyebrows is cocked and I groan.

"No I don't have a fucking summer dress. I don't even know what the hell that is. Is it different from a winter dress? Should I invest in a spring dress?"

"You're lucky you're pretty Katniss because you have absolutely no fashion sense."

This time I roll my eyes at her. I'm about to respond when there's a knock on my door. Butterflies instantly fill my stomach and I look at Madge pleadingly. She scoffs at me before returning her attention to her magazine.

"I don't live here. Be a big girl and answer the door." I flick her off, grab my purse and head to the door to see Peeta. I feel like I'm going to puke. What is this fucking hold he has over me? Will he be weird around me now that he knows I'm fucked up? Will he treat me like glass? Hundreds of nagging questions and fears flood my mind as my hand turns the door knob. When I see him standing in front of me, smiling that smile however, all the questions stop.

"Hey."

"Hey back. Ready to go?" I nod at him and walk out of my apartment, closing the door behind me.

"Lead the way." Peeta smiles at me and begins to trek towards the stairs, and I follow behind him, trying to remind myself of how to breathe.

* * *

The car ride is uneventful. Peeta keeps conversation light and I try my best to not be awkward. He is telling me something about a movie he watched last night when I feel the pressure in my mind and chest boil to the surface.

"I'm really sorry about the other night. You don't have to pretend like it didn't happen, I understand if it weirded you out." I blurt it out quickly, and look straight forward as Peeta falls silent. I feel a hand on my arm and I turn to look at him. His blue eyes are calm, and seemingly full of understanding rather than pity. _I'm not projecting at all._

"Katniss what happened didn't weird me out or scare me. we may not know each other that well but you should never think that something you can't help will push me away. Especially not something I understand myself." I smile at him before my eyes drift to his hand on my arm. He gives it a squeeze before removing it.

"Madge told me she told you… some things." This time I watch his face for a reaction. A small blush hits his cheeks and he clenches his jaw. Now it's him who won't look at me.

"Don't be too mad at her. She just told me a little to see if I could help." We pull into a parking spot outside of the café and he turns to me. "But we don't have to talk about it until you want to. Or until you trust me." I nod and look at the front of the café suddenly nervous about what I agreed to.

"I hate therapists you know." Peeta chuckles next to me.

"No one likes them I don't think. But this guy is a little different. He isn't a fan of offices or bullshit. He can be a little brash and he drinks a lot but his advice is usually dead on." I stare at Peeta, my mouth agape.

"You're bringing me to an alcoholic therapist?" Peeta laughs, an eyebrow raised as removes the keys from the ignition.

"He doesn't drink while he's working, don't worry."

"That doesn't ease my mind at all Peeta Mellark." We are standing outside of the car now, and Peeta surprises me by placing an arm on either side of the passenger side door, leaning in towards me. My back is against the car and my heart is racing.

"And what exactly does ease it Katniss Everdeen?" his voice is low. He must know this is getting a rise out of me by the blush on my cheeks and the quickness of my breathing. I swallow audibly and try to regain my composure. Two can play this game goddamn it. I cock my head to the side and smile what Madge calls my "come and get it smile", as I push myself off the car and place my mouth close to his ear.

"I would tell you but I doubt you can handle it." I whisper dangerously close to his ear, feeling my own hot breath, and I pull back to look at him. Now who's blushing? I smile.

"Don't play games you can't win Mr. Mellark." I laugh and push him off the car by his shoulders as he tries to regain the ability to speak. I turn to walk twards the café and he catches up, holding the door for me, still looking bewildered. Flirting with Peeta like this is something I absolutely never do, but I find myself enjoying it more than I thought I would.

We take our seats after ordering our coffee, sharing quick amused glances and quiet laughs. After the third time I catch him looking at me I raise an eyebrow of my own.

"Oh my god. What?" I try to sound annoyed, and Peeta licks his lips as he leans forward.

"You have no idea do you?"

"Peeta I am not in the mood for mind games. No idea about what?"

"The effect you can have." I find myself leaning into him as well. To say we have built up a sexually charged atmosphere is an understatement of it's own. I bite my bottom lip. I could seriously jump him in front of this entire café and not give a damn.

"If you two are going to fuck I would suggest not doing it in this coffee shop." I shoot away from Peeta at the gruff voice behind us, while Peeta just sighs and rolls his eyes.

"You're an ass Haymitch." The man just grunts before sitting down to join us. He's older, with a beard and long hair pulled back into a pony tail. He's wearing a button up shirt that is unbuttoned rather low and his ears are pierced. He looks like a hippy. Or a homeless person. He notices me looking him over.

"Like what you see Sweetheart?" I make a sound of disgust and look at Peeta.

"What the fuck are you getting me into? This guy looks like a fucking hobo." Peeta looks in between Haymitch and I, but it is Haymitch who responds.

"You're sassy aren't you?" he laughs at his own statement and I furrow my eyebrows. I do not like this man.

"You look like a fucking drowned rat." Haymitch laughs even harder, slapping the table.

"Peet, I think I like this girl." He claps Peeta's shoulder and Peeta gives me an apologetic look. Haymitch leans back in his chair and takes a sip of his coffee.

"So Peeta here tells me you're in the market for a good therapist. I can't promise I'm a good one but I can promise I won't push any bullshit new age techniques on you." He grins and I look between him and Peeta, sighing. What the hell right?

"Alright."

"Such enthusiasm. Peeta I hope that's not how she is in bed." Peeta and I both blush, and I feel a need to slap the "therapist" who obviously doesn't give two fucks about professionalism.

"Katniss and I are friends Haymitch. Stop being a dick." Peeta turns to me. "He can actually be professional sometimes believe it or not." I eye Haymith cautiously.

"I'll have to see it to believe it." Peeta smiles at me and gives my hand a quick squeeze before collecting our now empty coffee cups and heading to refill them. While he's gone Haymitch falls quiet studying me, and I him.

"So."

"So."

"Monday work for you? Around 5?"

"Sure. Where at?" he looks thoughtful for a moment before deciding.

"You know that park downtown? How about by the geese pond?" I sigh and shake my head before agreeing.

"Sure." Haymitch leans forward quickly.

"And sweetheart, I'm doing this as a favor for Lover Boy over there, so being defensive and surely won't get us anywhere. Just keep that in mind."

I nod at him in some sort of agreement which seems to satisfy him, and Peeta rejoins us shortly after.

Monday was sure going to be interesting.

* * *

The rest of our coffee meeting had been uneventful, Peeta and Haymitch easily talking about sports, school, and nothing too deep. I suspect it was because I was there, but I am grateful it was a lighthearted affair. I'm not sure I can handle much more right now.

When we return to my apartment, Peeta insists on walking me to my door, and somehow wrangled an invite inside from me. I watch as he walks in confidently, plopping down on my couch where I eventually join him. After a few moments of silence Peeta speaks up.

"I didn't really get a chance to say this the other night, but you looked good. You now. In that dress." He is fidgeting which is different from his normally cocky demeanor so I laugh.

"Thanks. I would return the compliment but you pretty much always look good." Shit. That was not what I wanted to say. At least not out loud. My cheeks are on fire, and the cocky grin returns to Peeta's face, yet he remains' silent. After a few moments of silence the sound of my stomach grumbling causes him to laugh and he stands up, offering me his hand. I look up at him questioningly.

"Come on, I'm starving and apparently you are too. Let's go." I take his hand and he yanks me off the couch and towards the door.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see!" it's hard to not get caught up in his boyish excitement so I stop asking questions and let him basically pull me to this car. As we drive I find myself studying him. Not his looks (I do that enough) but other things. There are scars all over his arms. He taps his fingers horribly off beat to the music playing on the radio. Small freckles dust his nose. Just 12 hours ago I was lying in bed with no desire to get up, and now I'm sitting in a car going god only knows where, and it's because this boy has some undeniable pull over me. I can't understand it. I never let people so easily into my life, but Peeta didn't really ask to be invited. He just kind of barged in and assumed it was okay. What scares me the most is now that he's here I don't want him to leave, even if I don't understand the capacity that he's taken in my life. He catches me staring at him and smiles.

"What are you doing?" I blush but don't stop staring.

"Trying to figure you out." He laughs.

"And have you?" I scowl.

"Not in the slightest."

He turns his attention to the road, and we soon pull into a local food favorite that specializes in fried chicken. Peeta orders two boxes with extra fires, and instead of turning towards my apartment when we get our food; we take off in an entirely different direction. I don't ask questions. He's running this show and he bought me food so I'm interested to see what's next on his agenda.

We pull up in front of what looks to be an old abandoned house, covered in moss and greenery, after 20 minutes of driving. Peeta winks at me, taking our food and exiting the car. I follow him around to the back porch of the house, and sit next to him, leaning back against the wall. The house sits overlooking what I'm assuming is an old and forgotten retentions pond, and ducks swim around nonchalantly. It's beautiful.

"So what do you think?" Peeta is watching my face intently and I smile.

"This place is amazing. This is great. Really." He must be able to tell I'm sincere because he grins, and accepting my answer, digs into his food. I follow suit and we eat in silence, enjoying the quiet world around us.

"My dad owns a bakery and I grew up helping him. Sometimes I would get burnt on the ovens." I look at Peeta quizzically. "I saw you looking. In the car." I avert my eyes, embarrassed that he noticed. "It's ok Katniss. It doesn't bother me. Most people just straight up ask. They don't understand that sometimes a scar is more than a scar."

He's looking off into the distance and I furrow my brow. What does he know about scars? As if he can sense my disbelief, he continues.

"Sometimes though…. My mom was a real bitch. She would hit me to keep me in line. So thanks for not asking. About the scars I mean. Because then I would have never been able to tell you." I'm frozen. He's still not looking at me.

"You don't have to tell me Peeta. You don't have to even our score just because Madge told you about me." He turns to me then, and I expect him to be angry, but instead he just looks tired.

"That's not why I told you. I want you to know. Know that I'm maybe just as messed up. That I get it. A lot of it. Maybe in a different way but I understand more than someone else could. And I'm fucking exhausted of keeping it all hidden from everyone. Of pretending that everything is so okay all the time. Aren't you?"

I don't reply at first. The blonde man sitting next to me is practically a stranger, but every moment I spend with him I feel like I know him better than I've ever known anyone. All of my self-preservation instincts are telling me to run, to shut this shit down, but for some reason I can't.

And so I give in to his pull.

I settle myself next to him and feel him put an arm around me, and I turn my face into this chest to breath him in, laying my head on his shoulder.

"Have you seen me? I can't pretend worth shit. At least not anymore." His grip around me tightens, his chin resting on my head.

"I won't pretend around you if you won't pretend around me."

"I'll try." I respond in a whisper. He kisses the top of my head and a warmth I've never felt spreads through me.

"That's all I ask."

* * *

**So this chapter was kind of fluffy. Not at all how I intended it to go but I'm glad it did. Next up will be Katniss therapy session with Haymitch and she and Peeta will get to know each other a little better. I plan on slowly building their relationship. They are damaged people who understand the pull they have towards each other but they are rightfully scared of what it means so don't expect it to be happy all the time. **

**Anyways, as always follow my tumblr, username glintwarsgreatest, and hopefully it won't take as long to update the next time! However I am going to be shifting my focus back to my other AU until I actually get the next chapter of it finished, but hopefully neither will take as long this time! **


	6. Chapter 6

I hate how quickly it fucking happens. I hate how one day or moment can be good, fun maybe, enough to make you pause and wonder if maybe – just maybe – you've been spending all of your time wallowing in the melodramatics of nothing more than your own twisted mind; and life actually isn't half as bad or nearly as fucking hard as you've tricked yourself into believing. I hate how these "good" days give you hope that maybe it's over, maybe you'll finally be a goddamn fucking normal human, a smile tugging at your lips, even tugging at your fucking soul; the hope overwhelming, but in a welcome way. I hate it because the moment that good day fucking comes you are setting yourself up to crash and burn so hard that there's a chance this crash will be the last. Letting a good day happen means you've let down your fucking guard and given the demons in your mind something new to vilify and slice you open with.

So it's no surprise that tonight, after spending a good day with Peeta, full of promises and secrets and fucking hope – my nightmare is about him. About losing him. Just like I've lost everyone else. I sit up in my bed so quickly I momentarily black out, and I can feel the shirt I'm sleeping in sticking to my sweaty body. Fuck. I pull my knees into my chest, stretching the shirt I'm wearing over them, before locking my fingers together behind my neck, laying my forehead on my knees. I begin taking deep breaths and rocking back and forth on my bed. I must look severely fucking deranged, which is true, but usually it's not so blatantly obvious. The cotton of my shirt that's stretching over my bony ass knees is wet and cold on my cheeks. Holy fuck. Am I crying? Over a dream about losing Peeta? I begin grinding my teeth together. This is why I don't get close to anyone. I have rules for a fucking goddamn reason.

I quickly lift my head, glancing towards my clock, which reads 3:13 am. I begin calculating the last time I took a xanax, a klonopin, a painkiller – any type of drug that usually makes me feel numb and uncaring – and realize it was hours ago. I shudder. I'm fucking stone cold sober right now for the first time in months, maybe years. Fuck that shit. My mind is too clear; too loud; my heart hurts so goddamn much I find my self scrambling off my bed so quickly I fall off of it. I don't even care. I throw my door open, staggering to the table holding my drugs left behind by a sad yet understanding Madge, and I take a seat, grasping the bottles hungrily. I actually sigh in relief as I dry swallow two Vicodin. There. All better.

I glance over at my couch, deciding I would rather sleep there (closer to the drugs) and reaching it, I unceremoniously throw myself down. When I start feeling the tingling in my toes and how fuzzy my mind is I hear myself sighing. Therapy with Haymitch tomorrow briefly flits across my mind and I feel the drugs working against me ( no – for me) and all I can make myself wonder is if he can prescribe drugs. I'm a fucking piece of shit mess.

* * *

The sound of someone knocking on my door jars me awake. My hear is pounding, my mouth so dry I find it difficult to open, and my shoulder is throbbing from sleeping on the couch during my mini drug induced coma. I stumble towards the door, throwing it open while simultaneously raising a hand to block the sunlight filtering in the open door.

"You forget about our little get together Sweetheart?" The smell of booze and cologne wafts into my nostrils. Haymitch.

"How the fuck do you know where I live?" the raggedy old man just grunts at me before pushing his way inside, past where I stand. Slamming the door shut I stomp my way rather childishly into the kitchen, turning on the faucet and placing my lips to it's steady stream of water. After a few gulps I pull back, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth. Behind me I hear a pill bottle rattle and I whirl around, my defenses up and on high alert.

"This is a pretty impressive collection you've got." Haymitch wears an amused grin and I rush to where he stands, snatching the bottle from his hands.

"I'm going to ask you again: How do you know where I fucking live?" Haymitch rolls his eyes at me.

"Well after waiting 30 minutes for you I finally had to call lover boy. You're lucky it wasn't him who woke you up from your much needed beauty rest. You look like shit." I narrow my eyes at him before looking back to the clock on my microwave. 6 pm. Holy fuck.

Haymitch must notice my eyes widen, because he chuckles a little at that moment.

"Yeah. You should think about investing in an alarm."

"Sorry." I grumble. I reach for my cigarettes on the table. "You smoke?"

Haymitch laughs at me.

"Sweetheart, I'm a professional alcoholic who sidelines as a therapist. What do you think?" I try to scowl instead of smile at him, as I begin walking towards my balcony.

"Well come on then." He follows behind me, and is thankfully silent until we are both seated outside with lit cigarettes. After a brief moment he eyes me.

"So you usually sleep all damn day?" I sigh. He may be crass but he doesn't waste time on bullshit.

"Only when I take the right drugs." He nods at my answer, and a thoughtful look crosses his face.

"Nightmares?" I tense. How in the fucking world?

"Um yeah."

"I get em' too. People don't really get how sometimes sleeping can be worse than being awake." I crease my brow.

"I fucking hate sleeping."

"So you take drugs because it forces you too." It's not a question. He understands, and his voice doesn't sound judgmental or clinical…. It sounds sad. I nod my head in answer. "Cant really fault you for that I guess."

We sit on my balcony chain smoking for a long while, neither of us talking, before Haymitch stamps out his cigarette and stands, stretching as he does so. I make no motion to move, and he turns to go back inside, before stopping and speaking to me once more.

"You know the boy has nightmares too." I look up to meet his gaze, but am unable to read it.

"Aren't you breaching some sort of patient confidentiality telling me that?" I flick my cigarette over the ledge while Haymith guffaws at my question. Instead of answering me he heads inside and I am close behind him.

"I'll see you next Monday at the duck pond. Don't be fucking late." He tells me without turning back, and with that he is gone. I don't bother to lock the door behind him, instead stripping off my clothes as I walk towards the bathroom to shower.

The water is scalding hot when I step in and I brace my arms on the wall in front of me, closing my eyes and letting the water numb my skin. I try to clear my head of Haymitch's parting words about Peeta, but they stick persistently in my mind. I can't control where my thoughts take me, nor the curiosity that overtakes me. Peeta always seems so bright and so chipper, but if he sleeps as badly as I do, it must all be an act. I wonder if his dreams are as violent and morbid and absolutely soul sucking like mine tend to be. I shudder, trying to repress the specific nightmares my mind brings to it's forefront at the thought. Seeing the bloody corpses of everyone I love at night is enough, I don't want to see it during the day as well.

I bathe quickly once the water starts to turn luke warm, and walk dripping wet into my room, changing into comfortable clothes. I reluctantly glance at my computer, sighing deeply before logging onto my school email to see if actually going to my night class would be necessary today. As it turns out, it's not, thanks to expected "inclimate" weather and my teacher's fear of all things bad, causing her to cancel class. Closing my laptop I stand and stretch, before my eyes fall on my bookshelf. Besides the night Peeta pulled a book from it's shelves, it has remained virtually untouched. Somewhere along the way I lost my eagerness to do the things I used to love; reading, watching movies, going running; really anything that required effort and a sober mind. For a moment I'm torn between grabbing more pills from my "impressive" collection or grabbing a book and seeing if maybe by some miracle I could get lost in it's pages. A rumble of thunder in the distance makes up my mind for me.

Grabbing the volume of Edgar Allen Poe stories from the place Peeta placed it, as well as a blanket off of my bed, I turn and head into the living room. I pull my chair towards the balcony door, and using a shoe I prop the door open, inhaling deeply as I do so. I love the rain. I love it's smell, I love the darkness, I love it's sounds. I have for my entire life. My mother used to call it my "reading weather." Setteling comfortably in the chair, I wrap myself in the blanket and open the pages of the book, flipping around until I find something I think I can lose myself in. for how morbid my own life has been you would think I wouldn't like Poe, but for some reason his macabre tales have always eased my mind, and for the first time in too long I lose myself in his words.

I'm vaguely aware of the darkening sky and light drizzle that has begun, when sometime later I am startled out of my peace by a knock on my door. I reluctantly close the book, before remembering I had in fact left the door unlocked.

"It's open!" I shout over my shoulder, and turn my eyes back to the sky. I have no concept of how much time has passed since I sat down, but the weather has taken a turn for the worse. The sky is nearly black, and the wind vicious. I stand and walk onto the balcony, momentarily forgetting there is someone in my apartment. I had assumed it was Madge, but when Peeta appears at my side I realize I had been hoping it was him.

"Hey". He smiles at me, casually bumping my hip with his own.

"Hey back." I return his smile and for some reason just as casually lean into his side, my arms crossed against my chest. His arm comes to rest on my waist, and the thought that I'm not normally ok with shit likes this flits across my mind. Before I can force my body to pull away however, Peeta speaks.

"Getting some reading done?" I nod my head yes against his shoulder.

"Yeah. My class was cancelled and I love reading when it rains." I tilt my head to look up at him, and see a smile pass his lips. "Have you eaten?" I'm starving, and when he shakes his head indicating he hasn't, I break our contact.

"Well come on then." He laughs a little, following me inside. While I rummage through my kitchen, finally deciding on heating up a few frozen pot pies, Peeta sits crouched next to my stack of DVDs. Out of the corner of my eye I see him toss a case I can't identify onto the coffee table before walking towards the table holding all of my medication. I cringe inwardly and busy myself with filling up ice trays, trying to seem like I haven't noticed his unabashed curiosity. I've never been one to specifically hide my drug use, but it isn't as if I've ever broadcast it either. I just really haven't ever cared about what people think about it, but I'm surprised to find I'm nervous about Peeta's reaction. He is silent however, and after a few moments he joins me in the kitchen.

"So the pot pies take about 15 minutes if that's ok." I'm trying really hard to not be awkward, but I can feel myself obsessing over my need to know what he thinks of my drug collection. Normal healthy people don't have a personal pharmacy that would put Walgreen's to shame. Normal people don't need drugs just so they can be a barely functioning member of society. He smiles easily at me however, and I feel a tinge relieved.

"15 minutes isn't really that long." He stuffs his hands in his pockets and leans back on the counter. "Sorry for just showing up. I was hoping we could just hang out tonight and I just didn't even think to call." He looks so hopeful, like he's afraid I'm going to say no, so I smile back at him.

"Yeah that sounds good. Besides I saw you pick out a DVD so you must have already known what my answer would be." He lets out a laugh, and his cocky ass smirk emerges onto his face, to which I find myself rolling my eyes.

"Well come on and lets see what you've picked." I begin heading out into the living room, and I can feel Peeta close behind me. It's alarming the way I can feel his presence, how the atmosphere seems to shift when he's near me, the way more and more of our interactions carry and undeniable heat between us; but what is most alarming is the sense of almost …. Normalcy he brings in my world. Maybe it's like that fucking inane saying "Two wrongs makes a right"; maybe two fucked up people help each other be not so fucked up.

We reach the coffee table and as I flop down onto the couch I pick up the DVD case. I had expected to see The Quiet Man or The Philadelphia Story, but when I see the case I'm unable to stop the snort of laughter that escapes.

"Out of all of my movies you picked The Parent Trap?" Peeta rolls his eyes at me, but not before a sheepish smile crosses his features.

"Yep. It's a great movie and I haven't seen it for a long time." He is holding his hand out for the disc and I hand it over, no longer trying to contain my amusement at his movie choice. While Peeta is setting up the DVD, I quickly venture into my room, gathering a few blankets. Tossing them on the couch, I go and stand in front of the window, watching the storm. The wind has picked up in speed and ferocity, the rain is falling diagonally, and I watch as the stop sign at the exit of my complex sways back and forth like a sapling. A huge lightening bolt fills the sky, the thunder accompanying it gently shaking some of the items in my apartment. I feel wary about the storm now. As much as I love rain storms, these harsh Florida summer storms scare me, turning violent quickly, devastating everything in their path. Shuddering I close the blonds on the window as the oven beeps in the background. Before I can even step in the direction of the kitchen however, Peeta is pulling the tray out of the oven, and setting the pot pies on separate plates. Using his elbow he turns off the kitchen lights, and sits himself down on the couch, covering his legs with a blanket and clocking the foot rest up.

"Comfortable?" I smirk at him, and he smiles back at me, his mouth full of food. Turning on a lamp in the corner, I turn off the overhead light and settle in on the middle seat of the couch. Covering myself with a separate blanket, I tuck my legs underneath myself and to the side, grabbing the remote and my plate. 30 minutes into the movie Peeta nonchalantly puts an arm around me, and I slide closer into his side, my knees bent near my chest and my head resting on his shoulder. His fingers begin to slowly and methodically trace my arm eliciting a sigh from me, as I bury my head closer to his chest.

"Did you talk to Haymitch today?" his voice is barely above a whisper, and I will myself not to tense up.

"Uh yeah for a few minutes. He must have not have hated me because I have to see him again next week." I begin to mentally prepare an answer to any other questions Peeta will throw at me about my time with our shared therapist, but he only mutters a "that's good" before pulling my body more securely against his. As much as I was dreading the possibility of him wanting to know what Haymitch and I talked about, I find I am a little disappointed he didn't ask at all. After all he was the one who asked us not to pretend. But maybe we aren't.

Maybe we're just watching a movie like two normal friends who have no concept of what personal fucking space is and I just haven't done anything so "normal" or so sober in so long I've forgotten what it's actually like to not be pretending. I try to silence my erratic and honestly fucking annoying train of current thoughts by concentrating on the movie, but it doesn't help. Instead I turn my attention to the feel of Peeta's fingers ghosting over my skin, and the rise and fall of his chest beneath my head. My self-concocted anxiety begins to ebb as the only thoughts I being to be able to focus on are ones of Peeta. I let my eyes flutter closed and allow myself to revel in our contact, which is the most personal contact I've allowed with anyone in a long while. Or maybe ever.

I must not have noticed myself drifting off, but I wake up to Peeta's voice a while later. The movie credits are rolling on the screen, and it takes me a moment to collect myself. When I do, I realize I have turned into Peeta's body, using his chest as a pillow, my arm snug around his waist. I quickly untangle myself.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to sleep through the movie." Peeta chuckles at me.

"It's ok. I really didn't mind. But it's getting late so I should probably get going.' I am about to nod in agreement with him when a huge rumble of thunder brings me to my senses.

"Peeta, you can't go out there in this weather." Peeta nods slowly, looking anywhere but directly at me. I feel my cheeks burn. I just indirectly invited him to stay the night, and while sex with strange men is my goddamn forte, Peeta is neither a stranger or someone I want a frivolous one night fuck with. That realization startles me a bit and I swallow thickly.

"I would just feel better I mean, if you stayed. I know it's probably not the most enticing offer, but the couch is actually pretty comfortable. Hell I slept there last night." I am now the one avoiding his eyes as I furiously pick at the pieces of lint on my blanket, until Peeta's hands cover mine.

"Thanks Katniss. The couch will be great." I smile a quick closed mouth smile, before darting into my room for a pillow. Returning to the living room, I wordlessly hand Peeta the pillow, taking a moment to point out the bathroom and ask if he needs anything, before locking the front door and heading towards my room.

"Goodnight Katniss Everdeen." I halt my movements and turn around towards the couch. Peeta's jeans and shirt are folded on top of the coffee table, and he laying with his arms behind his head, the blankets stopping at his waist. I stammer over my words at the sight of him shirtless because, for the love of god, he's perfect and muscular and I am physically unable to take my eyes off of his fucking happy trail.

"Um goodnight." I finally manage, and much to my embarrassment Peeta smiles smugly at me. I roll my eyes, flipping out the lights, and ignoring his laughter as I make my way into my room.

Easing into my own bed, I can't help but think how strange the position I'm in is. Never mind that I usually don't make a habit of openly gawking at hot guys like some 13 year old pre-pubescent teenaged twat, but for the first time…. Ever there is a man in my apartment staying the night. Because I insisted he do so. Gale and I never even had sex here. I've never brought a one night stand here. Madge is the only other human that has stayed the night here, and usually it's to make sure I don't drown in my own vomit while I sleep. But now there is a hot man sleeping on my couch, who I haven't so much as fucking kissed, and all I want is for him to be in my bed with me. The most disturbed part is that as much as that little cocky ass smirk of his may get to me physically, I don't want him in my bed so I can have his cock between my thighs. I just want his arms around me again, and to be listening to his breathing like before, on the couch. And that need and entire idea fucking utterly scares the shit out of me.

Curling up into the fetal position, I begin to long for my pills, but I was so goddamn caught up in the shirtless Peeta I forgot to grab them. Sighing, I pull my blanket up over my shoulders, wishing that sleep would come soon, but I lay restlessly in bed for another hour before drifting off.

* * *

_As I walk up the porch of the house I can immediately tell something is wrong. I push the big green door open, and walk cautiously inside. The silence is eerie, the only sound coming room the menu of whatever movie Prim was watching. Hanging my coat on the rack near the door, I slowly venture into our kitchen, searching for my dad._

_"Dad? Prim?" I feel the anxiousness rising in my throat. Something isn't right. That's the moment I notice it. The window in the kitchen overlooking our backyard is broken, the curtains fluttering in the night's breeze. My heart is beating so quickly, and I can't tell if it's from adrenaline or pure fear._

_"Prim! Daddy!" I am screaming now, and I tear into the living room, but not before tripping over something heavy and out of place in the hallway. Something wet seeps into the knees of my jeans, and ignoring the pain in my chin from my fall, I quickly turn to see what I fell over, finding myself face to face with my worst nightmare come to life. My dad is dead. All I can do is crawl over to his body, screaming his name over and over, while bile rises in my throat along with my sobs._

The feeling of someone's hands on my arms pulls me from my nightmare. My throat burns, and my face is wet, covered in tears. I am shaking, but after a moment I am at least able to make out Peeta's face in the darkness. He looks utterly consumed with fear, but I cannot formulate words to console him, or assure him I'm ok. Because I am really not fucking ok. Instead I break all of my rules, and pull myself into his arms, my arms vice like around his neck, my face pressed into his chest while I break the fuck down. To Peeta's credit, instead of becoming more alarmed, he pulls me down with him so we are laying in my bed, and he begins to slowly caress my back, his arms wrapped around me tightly. He pressed his face into my hair, and lets me cry and try to pull it together. eventually my shaking stops, as do the huge sobs, but I cannot stop the silent tears that flow down my face.

"I'm sorry Peeta." I almost whisper the words, racked with guilt and shame for probably scarring him for life. I feel his grip around me tighten, and his lips press into my hair.

"Don't apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for." I tilt my head so I can study his face, and he hesitates a moment before speaking again. "You were screaming. At first I thought something had happened, but when I realized you were asleep I knew I had to wake you up." His face is full of pure concern, and I muster up the energy to whisper a muted "thank you." We are silent for a while, Peeta's hands never ceasing the comforting patterns on my back, until he finally speaks again in a hushed tone.

"I have them too. Nightmares I mean. The only thing that really helps is telling myself they aren't real." I squeeze my eyes shut at his admission, my stomach churning.

"This one was real. It wasn't a dream ….. it was a memory. Of the night my dad and sister died." I feel more tears begin to well up behind my closed eyes, and Peeta's hand stop their movements.

"I'm so sorry Katniss." I let out a single bitter laugh, and if Peeta is unnerved by my reaction he doesn't say so, instead he remains silent, waiting for me to speak again.

"I haven't dreamed about that night in a long time. I don't think about it ever if I can." I shudder involuntarily. "Peeta," I begin to falter, my voice's volume quickly declining "I'm glad you were here. Thank you." I pull my hands from around his neck and lean down to pull up the blanket, but Peeta mistakes my movements are his cue to return to the couch. Before I even have a chance to think about what I'm doing, my hand is wrapping around his wrist, tugging his back to me. He looks startled, but doesn't fight me, and I look at my knees, feeling incredibly small.

"I just don't want to be alone." One of his fingers slips under my chin, which he lifts up, forcing eye contact between us.

"I'm not going anywhere." And because I have lost all semblance of my personal self control, I slide my hand over his cheek, before slowly leaning forward, placing my lips on his. The kiss is short, but every part of my body and mind lights on fire the moment our lips touch. I pull away, resting my forehead against his, my eyes closed, my hand still on his cheek.

"Thank you." I whisper for the third time tonight. Peeta's hand covers my own, and he kisses my palm before tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. His arms wrap around me, and he eases us down, my head on his chest, and our legs tangled together. Peeta places one more lingering kiss on my forehead, and for the second time tonight, I fall asleep to the sound of his breathing.


	7. Chapter 7

******Ok so I was planning on moving this story forward and getting past the fluff for the moment but then I drank too much wine and watched The Hunger Games on DVD and all it made me want to do was write fluffy Katniss/Peeta scenes. There are important conversations had in this chapter and there is some baby smut (not like babies but like level one soft core with clothes on smut), but it is generally lighthearted because I had to get out my Everlark feels. **

**Next chapter will not be this light and fun and nice, it will address some issues that have been building in the story and need to have their moment. I already have it written but I need to do some editing on it before I post it! **

**Hope you guys enjoy, and don't forget to check out my tumblr in case this story gets taken down. **

* * *

**Peeta**

I'm slow to wake up this morning; (it's not even really morning I don't think) and everything feels wrong but perfect at the same time. My brain begins piecing together memories of last night, but it isn't until I feel Katniss snuggle in closer to my chest that I finally feel relief. The feeling is fleeting however, as something new, something I don't think I've ever really felt takes its place. I'm happy. I think. Instantly I hate myself for even thinking in such a way. I shouldn't feel happiness as a direct result of her pain. I'm here because she was terrified of being alone, something I completely understand.

I had lied to her yesterday, when I told her I had simply forgotten to call before heading over. In reality I was too afraid she would say no, and being around her makes me feel like maybe I'm not alone, as a result I selfishly want to spend every waking moment with her. I know without a doubt that the sound of her screams last night will haunt me the moment I close my eyes tonight when I'm alone. Well, either that or the kiss we shared. I've been trying so hard to abide by Madge's warning, to not rush Katniss, but I'm losing my resolve.

While I've been the one to instigate most of our time together, I think Katniss is the one making the big choices. Asking me to stay, kissing me the way she did – it took me a long to fall asleep after that. As much as I want to taste her and touch her and just love her, I'm not too dense to realize that for her, laying next to me in bed, grasping onto me, pressed into me every way imaginable, is so much more meaningful than sex. After our encounter with Gale I think I realized how fragile Katniss really is. She's doesn't let people in, but she isn't stopping me.

Hell, at this point if all we ever did was kiss, and she continued to let me hold her like this I would. Because I wouldn't be alone.

Her breath tickles my neck and I tighten my grip around her, closing my eyes. The storm is still raging outside, and I have nowhere else I would rather be, so I allow myself to drift back to sleep.

* * *

**Katniss**

For the first time in a long while, when I wake up, I actually feel rested. When I feel arms around me I silently begin to panic at my proximity to another human being, until I realize who it is. A sense of calm rushes through me, and I keep my body still as to not wake him. I've never intentionally slept with something like this before.

I shift my head slightly so I can look at his face. His hair is more curly and mussed after a nights sleep, and his stubble is a little more grown than it was when I met him. His lips twitch a little, and I feel a wave of embarrassment flood through me as I remember kissing him last night, in what could really be considered my first real kiss, simply because it was the most pure one I have ever shared with another person. Until last night 99% of my "kisses" involved tongue and were really just an ends to a mean. Before last night the only people I've really kissed were kissed so as to get to the fucking. I pale a little at the thought. Peeta seems so unearthly good and kind and respectable, his head screwed on more straight than mine will ever be. We are heading down a dangerous path together, one where I'm certain I will hurt him, because that's what I do best. I hurt those around me. But as much as I know the right thing to do would be to stop the direction we are moving, I know I am too selfish. The idea that I needed him had made my stomach churn last night, but this morning I am resigned to the idea, welcoming a fresh wave of self-hatred as I do so. We aren't even dating but I'm already in so deep. He deserves someone so much better. But I am selfish. It's always been my truest characteristic.

Lost in my train of thought, I'm slightly startled when I hear Peeta's whispered "good morning", and I can't help the small smile that takes over my expression. I glance up towards him, his bright eyes shining down at me.

"Good morning to you." I whisper back. Normal voices seem out of place somehow in this moment, as if they would break the calm. Peeta smiles sleepily at me, and nuzzles his nose in my hair.

"The weather isn't any better." I manage after a loud rumble of thunder invades our silence. He chuckles, his laughter sending vibrations from my skull into my toes.

"Would it be super creepy if I admitted I would be perfectly content spending the day like this?" He murmurs into my hair, and I wait for the onset of utter panic to spread through me, but it doesn't. I'm always so in tune with how certain situations will make me feel, but the emotions Peeta brings out of me are always unexpected, raw, and new. Currently I feel shy, something very very new, and I grip him a little tighter, before mustering up the courage to say the words rolling around my head.

"Not creepy. That sounds good to me too." It takes every ounce of will power I have to say the words, so naturally they come out sounding small and delicate. When I feel his face lift off my head, I look up, desperate to make sure my admission hasn't frightened him off. When he leans down and wordlessly kisses me however, my initial expectations are once again proven wrong.

This kiss is somehow different from last nights, which was born out of need and high running emotions, while this feels more like two people reveling in the simple fact that they can be kissing; and once again I feel like I'm being kissed for the first time. The tenderness and somehow passion of this kiss leaves me dizzy, and as his soft lips move against mine everything about me buzzes to life. I slowly inch my hand into the hair on his neck, content to play with its ends and curls while we kiss softly and slowly. When Peeta finally pulls away, it's with a smile blazing on his face. He brushes his nose against mine, and I actually fucking giggle.

I don't think I've ever giggled.

I didn't even know I was capable of doing that.

Jesus Christ. I _am_ a 13-year-old pre-pubescent teenaged twat.

I've never felt so young in my entire life. I almost feel carefree, but the moment I think that, the reality of what initially brought Peeta into my bed crashes into me, and once again my emotions leap off a fucking bridge, just mercilessly fucking with my mind now. Instead of shame or embarrassment or panic, the kind that usually causes me to close up tightly against the world, I feel compelled. Compelled to actually fucking talk about it.

"Peeta?"

"Hmm?" His eyes are closed and his fingers are once again doing that amazing massage thing on my back. I take a deep breath.

"I'm sorry if I freaked you out last night." His eyes fly open at my words.

"You didn't. I mean the screaming startled me, yeah, but I understand. I really have them too. Pretty much every night." How is he so open about this shit? My curiosity is piqued thanks to his admission and I try to be delicate with my next question, sounding more like an idiot instead.

"Do you…. I mean are they…" I pause, trying to find the way to ask this question, but Peeta beats me to it.

"What are they like?" I nod into his chest, and he sighs.

"No memories, and no screaming really. I just tend to dream about the worst ways I could end up. Or that I get violent around the wrong people. Around any people really I guess. Mostly my dreams are about hurting the people I care about." He shivers a little against me, and one of my hands begins to slowly trail up and down his forearm.

"I always hurt people in mine too. Not directly. But when I find them I always know it's because of me." Peeta remains silent after I speak, but his arms pull me into his side a little tighter.

"Did you have any nightmares last night?" My voice is once again strangely shy.

"No actually I didn't." I smile a little before realizing I didn't have any either.

"I didn't either. After you came here I mean." Peeta's hand works it's way into my braid, slowly untangling it. He begins to run his fingers through it and my skin is lit up with goose bumps. I lay quietly next to him trying to ignore the way his fingers are honestly turning me the fuck on, choosing instead to concentrate on the rain fall outside until his steady actions lull me back to sleep.

* * *

_The windows are open, my air is going and my fan is turning as quickly as it can, but in this sweltering Florida heat it has little effect. My body is covered in a sheen of sweat, my hair is damp as his fingers delicately trail from the side of my breasts to my thighs, prying them apart, holding them down. My breathing is labored, my eyes are closed – due to the weather or du to the effect this boy has on me I don't know – but I never want to be anywhere else. He grips my hips, his fingers sliding slightly against the sweat on my body, and I lose my breath the moment he plunges his tongue into me. It's cool and wet and it feels so overwhelming in contrast to how hot and sweat covered everything else is. My hands bury in his wet hair as he moves his tongue in and out, swirling it, curling it, - fucking me to oblivion with it- and my hips jerk up so roughly over and over again, my clit pressing against his mouth or his nose, I can no longer tell, and I lose whatever control I have been able to maintain until now. I jerk and writhe and twist and he moans into me as I begin to lose every fiber of what makes me me to him, to his tongue inside of me, to everything we are when we are together…_

My eyes fly open while dream Katniss enjoys her orgasm. Lucky cunt. My leg is slung over Peeta's hip and I realize the reason for my dream is that I not only fell asleep a little turned on, but I had also subconsciously dragged myself right onto his erection. I'm really fucking wet and he is really fucking hard, and this entire situation is a little embarrassing for some reason, but when I try to move off of him, his hand flies down to my thigh basically trapping me. my heart is pounding so loud I'm pretty sure I could be confused as the goddamn Energizer Bunny. I look up at him and that fucking smirk on his face makes me bite back a moan.

"Enjoy your dream?" His hand tightens on my thigh and I'm 100% sure I am bright red right now.

"Um sorry?" I avoid his eyes and try really hard not to feel the pressure of his dick on me.

"Trust me, the way you were saying my name a few minutes ago assures me you aren't sorry in the slightest." My eyes fly up at his. I can't even think, my mouth won't fucking open with a retort. Peeta hitches my thigh up more before flipping me underneath him, pressing his hips into mine. This time I can't control my moaning. Or the way my legs wrap around him. Peeta leans his face towards mine, and brings his lips to hover right above my face.

"So what was your dream about?" He dips his face to my neck, licking it, and whatever resolve I had to not tell him flies out the window with my sanity and just about every coherent thought I think I have ever had.

"You." His lips lay against my ear.

"And what was I doing?" He sticks the tip of his tongue in my ear, rolling his hips against me once. My hands cling to his arms.

"You were….. you went….." Fuck. I am usually so straight forward about this shit. Get it together Katniss you pussy. "You had your tongue in me." I finally say it so quickly I honestly hope he didn't understand it, but the moan he lets loose against my neck tells me he did.

"Katniss." He groans my name right into my ear.

"How was I?" he asks lifting his face above mine, a smirk playing at his lips as his hips resume their torturously slow movements against me. I can't help but to laugh and roll my eyes at his question.

"You did alright for yourself." He grins, but my voice shrinks. "But Peeta, we're not, I mean I'm not –" I glance away embarrassed. His hand comes to my face as he finishes my though for me.

"We're not there yet. I know."

My eyes meet his. How the hell does he understand me so effortlessly? Especially considering I have no idea what is going on half the time? And more so, when did I turn into someone who isn't ready to have sex? I love sex. I crave it almost.

But this is… different.

Sex is usually just that for me – sex. It doesn't really matter whose face or heart is attached to the dick as long as the body is good, but this is Peeta. His heart matters. Sex with him wouldn't just be sex and I am definitely not ready for whatever the hell it would be.

"Do you want to stop?" His hips cease their movements but he doesn't look mad that I don't want to fuck him. He looks concerned that he's done something wrong. He's concerned about me. This boy is not real.

I tighten my legs around his hips, grinding myself against him.

"No. Don't stop." He begins grinding into me with new fervor, and I return it. He places his hands on either side of my face, his right one winding into my hair, his lips landing on mine. His tongue meets mine, sucking it into his mouth, biting my lip, kissing me so deeply I could probably come right now. When we pull away we are both gasping for breath, Peeta choosing to rest his forehead against mine as we continue moving into each other. My hands slide from his arms to his ass, gripping the fabric of his boxers, driving him into me harder. We're both sweating, and the intimacy of the moment is driving me to a place few have ever gotten me so quickly. And with so much clothing on. Our skin it's touching for shit's sake, except for our legs, but the rust of emotion that is rolling through me added to the way Peeta's eyes never leave mine takes me so far over the edge that when I come I'm shaking, not shouting. I've been called a "screamer" before so this quiet reaction is so blissful and so welcomed I moan Peeta's name in gratitude. His arms wrap themselves underneath me, around me, crushing my body into his, while he buries his face into my neck, rocking himself against me more furiously than before, until I feel the front of his boxers become as wet as my own underwear is.

We lay together, simply catching our breath for a long while. My body is so relaxed – I haven't had sex since before my fight with Gale, and I've been too drugged up to take care of it myself.

But my mind is still reeling. I skipped past all of this stuff. I never had a chance to do all the small things leading up to sex; the shy touches, the dry humping (which is apparently really fun and something I really missed out on as a pre-teen). Instead it got fucking taken from me. Sex has never meant anything more than distancing myself as much as possible from the memory of when I had my innocence and my fucking dignity ripped apart and torn away. Being with someone has never been like this for me before.

Peeta's head raises from my shoulder, and he shifts down, laying it on my chest. My hands absentmindedly find his hair, and he sighs against me.

"Well that was fun." I laugh at his summation of what just transpired between us.

"Yes I would have to agree." He rests his chin on my breast bone, grinning at me, my hands content to continue playing in his curls.

"Hey the rain stopped." I listen for a moment, and realize he's right. The storm has passed. He buries his head back into my chest, sighing once more.

"I have class at 5." My hands stop. Oh. He wants to leave. Usually I'm the one that leaves. I wonder if my announcements of this sort have ever gutted anyone I've been with the way his just did to me. He must notice me tense up, because he quickly whips his head up.

"I have a quiz and I need new boxers, but if it's alright with you, can I maybe come back after?" his cheeks are flushed with a tiny tinge of pink, and I feel relief wash over me. he isn't running from me and whatever the hell we just did. I smile at him.

"Yeah. It's alright if you come back." Peeta shifts up on his arms and gently kisses me, before rolling next to my side, pulling me into him once more.

"Then I'll come back."


	8. Chapter 8

**This chapter is mostly conversational, so it's word count is smaller than usual. And thank you for the great responses I got on last chapter, I know I always say it's appreciated but really, it always makes me feel so happy! **

* * *

Peeta and I lay together for a bit longer before he has to go be a real person. After the door closes I basically run for my phone. I find Madge in my contacts and impatiently pace around my living room while the phone rings.

"Are you alive?" It's the first thing she asks me. Not hello, not how's it going, she instead asks if I'm alive. I laugh.

"No I'm dead and calling to let you know. Yes dumbfuck I'm alive. And 100% sober." I sit down on the couch, rummaging through my purse for a lighter.

"Excuse me?" She sounds disbelieving, but I know she is actually taunting me. I roll my eyes at no one.

"Yes. I Katniss Everdeen am sober. But I can fix that really quickly if you are going to be weird about it." Madge snorts, while my fingers finally grasp around a blue lighter. I head out onto my balcony.

"Ok deal. What's going on? And I won't tease you I promise." I survey the wet chairs on the patio, turning back into my apartment to retrieve a towel.

"Peeta stayed the night last night." I find an old beat up beach towel, placing it under my arm, stopping in my tracks to hold the phone away from my ear when Madge screams.

"You done?" I ask sarcastically, placing the phone between my ear and shoulder as I wipe down a chair with the towel before sitting in it.

"Oh my god Katniss. Have you ever purposefully stayed the night with a guy ever? Actually I know the answer to that. How did this happen?" Madge is talking a mile a minute and I light a cigarette, inhaling before responding.

"He came over last night to watch a movie but the weather was really bad so I told him to stay. He took the couch like a gentleman."

"Oh." The disappointment in her voice is palpable and truthfully a little funny. "Katniss I don't think that actually qualifies as staying the night unless he's actually in bed with you."

"He got there eventually." I gather my knees up into the chair, aware this conversation is not going down the path I had originally intended.

"Oh did he now?" I swear I can hear her eyebrows rising through the fucking phone. "And how was Mr. Mellark?" I choke on the smoke in my lungs. Oh yeah. I fuck guys so often with disregard that my best friend (my only friend) assumes I did the same with Peeta.

"Um, we didn't have sex actually so I don't know." Madge is silent for a few moments, but it feels like they last for eons. "Madge you better still fucking be on the phone and not like passed out in shock or something because that will not amuse me." I kick out at a bucket resting sideways on the ground.

"I'm still here. Sorry. Just trying to process." I sigh.

"It's so fucked up that I've whored around so much that you have to process this." I say quietly to her.

"Katniss this is good I think. And I've never considered you a whore and you know that."

"That's because you're too good of a person. Of a friend." She laughs at my statement.

"Well I am pretty great. But if you guys didn't sleep together how did he end up in bed with you?" I flick the ash off my cigarette.

"I had a nightmare and he heard me screaming."

"Oh."

"Yeah but it's ok. He stayed with me. He took care of me." I hear Madge squeak a little through the phone even though she obviously tried to hide it.

"I heard that."

"Katniss I'm sorry and don't hate me but that is fucking adorable. When did he leave?"

"Uh about 10 minutes ago I guess."

"HE JUST LEFT? IT IS 3:30 IN THE AFTERNOON!" I once again hold the phone away from my ear as she yells out the time of the day to me.

"Jesus fucking Christ Madge I am perfectly aware of the time I am not a goddamn invalid."

"You are holding out on me Everdeen. What the hell?" I shake my head. I am about to get seriously laughed at.

"Ok. Well he stayed and we laid in bed all day, talking. We kissed, made out actually I guess. And there was maybe some dry humping involved alright?" Madge is once again silent.

"Dry. Humping." I am extremity uncomfortable at the tone of her voice.

"Uh. Yeah."

"Are you 12?" I grit my teeth at the teasing.

"No asshat. It's just different with him I guess."

"Different how?" Madge's voice is softer now, and I know she's probably figured out exactly how Peeta is different but she won't believe me if I don't say it out loud.

"I don't know. I'm just not, we're just not, there yet. I don't think. I don't think I'm ready. You know. For sex. With him." I exhale. God I hate talking about shit like this even if it's all I think about.

"I think that's a good kind of different Kat. A great different." God bless Madge.

"Thanks. Can I see you this week?" I need a change in subject, which thankfully (but not surprisingly) Madge picks up on.

"You still owe me dinner shithead." I laugh, long and hard.

"Yes I guess I do."

"Thursday night?"

"Sounds good."

"K. Love you Kat."

"Love you too Madge."

* * *

Hanging up with Madge I meander back inside. Peeta had said his class would be over around 7:30, so I resign myself to actually doing some chores. After folding blankets, starting a load of laundry, and loading the dishwasher, I head to the table and pill all of my pills into my arms, choosing to dump them in a drawer in my nightstand. I strip my sheets, deciding some new ones are probably due, and head for the shower.

As always the water is hot enough to probably make some fucking coffee with, and after I'm done bathing I flop down on the bathtub floor to begin the process of shaving my legs, something I hate doing. I can't help wishing it were winter, where I never have to wear shorts and never have to shave my legs. But if Peeta and I are going to move slowly I should probably start paying attention to my downstairs upkeep. After I finish shaving all my lady bits and pieces I shut off the water, wrapping a towel around my body, when a loud banging on my door breaks the thoughtless trance I've been in.

"For shit's sake hold on!" I yell after throwing the bathroom door open. The pounding maniac pauses and I quickly throw on some athletic shorts and a sports bra. As I'm walking towards the door, the pounding begins again so I throw the door open seething. When I see him however, my anger shifts, making room for the annoyance that accompanies my current guests appearance.

"Gale." He looks tired, as well as peeved that it took so long for me to answer the door. His eyes roam my body for a moment and he swallows.

"Hey Catnip." I cross my arms over my chest, not asking him in on purpose.

"What do you want?" My voice is venomous, but so where the things he said to me the last time we saw each other so I don't feel any guilt.

" I was wondering if we could talk?" His eyes refuse to look at me now, choosing instead to focus on the cement ground of the outdoor hallway. I let out a long sigh.

"Yeah I guess. But not in here. Outside." He nods as I step out in the hallway to join him.

"Look Katniss." My real name. Oh boy. "I'm so fucking sorry about how I acted the other night. I just lost it." He's looking at me now, his eyes pleading. I lean back on the wall, arms still folded over my chest.

"Just a little." I can't help the tone in my voice and he deflates.

"I just saw you with him and I flipped. I was fucking wasted out of my mind and I said stupid shit. I'm really sorry." I sigh, running my hand through my wet hair, choosing to not respond. He takes a step closer.

"I miss you Catnip."

I roll my eyes.

"No. You miss fucking me." I look him straight in the face and he flinches.

"Katniss it hasn't been about just fucking you for me for a while now. Yeah I miss that. But I miss you more." I freeze. This isn't where I want this apology to head. Shit.

"Gale, you're my friend." I choke out, but once again, he steps closer, undeterred.

"Katniss, we're more than just friends. You know it and I know it."

"What about Glimmer?" Shit. That wasn't the right thing to say, because his eyes light up a bit, thinking there's a shot.

"We broke up." A step closer.

"It doesn't matter." I try to take a step back forgetting that I'm against the wall already. Trapped.

"Why?" He's so close now I can feel his body heat.

"Because I'm …' I pause, trying to figure out what it is exactly I'm doing with Peeta. Sleeping with him at night. Kissing him. Watching movies. Waiting for him to come back to me.

"You're with that blonde prick aren't you?" Gale's eyes are fierce when I snap my head back to look at him.

"He's not a fucking prick. And I don't know what we are, but I want to find out." I push myself off the wall and try to sidestep away from him, my anger boiling, but he grabs my bicep, keeping me from moving further away.

"Give me a fucking chance Katniss." He's angry now too, his hold on my arm increasing.

"Gale that fucking hurts. Let go of my arm right the fuck now." He doesn't but he at least decreases the pressure.

"Catnip why? We have to try. You're all I want." There are tears in his eyes. I'm hurting yet another good person. Great.

"Gale, I'm sorry." I take my hand and place it over his, trying to pry his fingers off, but they won't budge. He catches me surprise instead, pushing me back against the wall. I put my hands on his chest to push him off, but I can't overpower him. When his lips crash into mine, I raise my knee and jam it into his stomach, not hard, but it pushes him off me. He tries to catch his breath, looking shocked.

"What the fuck Gale? You really think forcing yourself on me is going to change my mind?"

"I wasn't forcing myself on you. Stop being so dramatic. I just can't lose you to that douche." He turns to leave, before stopping and looking at me once more.

"I'm not giving up Catnip. I know you feel something." And then he's gone.

I slide down the wall, pulling my knees to my chest. Goddamn it. I'm shaking from the encounter and I can't tell if it's from anger or shame.

I wasn't afraid of Gale. He would never hurt me intentionally and I know that, but that's exactly what I did to him. I knew. I fucking knew he had feelings for me, deep down, but he had a girlfriend and I'm practically a shell of a human being, which I assumed made me un-datable, unlovable. I had hoped he would get over his crush on me, marry Glimmer or some other big tit blonde, and forget I ever existed. I knew I was hurting him, that he cared about me more than as a friend or a good fuck, but I'm such a shit person I ignored it for my own selfish reason. As much as I want to be angry with him for basically ambushing me, the only anger I can maintain is that of searing self-hatred so vicious I swear I can actually feel it coursing through my veins. I need a fucking drink.

I don't know how long I sit against the wall, but when I begin coming to I realize the sky has darkened drastically. I stretch my legs out in front of myself and massage my temples, trying to pull my shit together enough that when Peeta arrives he won't notice anything is off. I stumble back into my apartment, and immediately make a beeline for the liquor cabinet. Pulling out the bottle Madge left me, I sigh, the weight of the Jack and it's familiarity reassuring me that I can escape my problems with the help of the liquid. I set the bottle down, and turn to fetch a glass but the unmistakable squealing of Delly outside my door stills my actions. One day I am going to buy that girl a fucking muzzle I swear to god. Maybe that would chill her the fuck out. Sighing I make my way to the front door, and fling it open, taking in the sight before me.

"Come on Peeta. We've barely gotten to hang out and it will be fun, I swear!" Delly's voice is so high it could probably shatter glass, and my eyes flicker to her hand on Peeta's wrist. Swallowing down the urge to forcefully remove her hand from him, I clear my throat to announce my presence. Delly turns dramatically, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Katniss! Yay! Please convince Peeta that you two should come out tonight! We're going to Geoffrey's, there are 2 for 1 wells and it's going to be so much fun!" She's literally bouncing with excitement and it takes every ounce of my will power to not roll my eyes.

How in the fucking world can one person be so perky and have so much energy without drugs? As much as I usually detest huge group outings however, I can't help thinking how perfect this opportunity is. I can get fucking obliterated around Peeta without him realizing something is up, while drinking alone in my apartment would definitely do the opposite. Also, Geoffrey's is my favorite place, and it would be good if Peeta is there, because when I am in self-loathing "lets get drunk until we forget our names" mode I tend to get reckless. As well as extremely horny. It's not that I would "cheat" on Peeta, even if I'm not sure it would be cheating, but the chances of me riding some strange dick decreases 100% if he is there with me. So I shrug at Delly, turning my attention to Peeta, who is waiting for my response. I get the distinct feeling he kind of wants to go, so I turn my eyes back to Delly's.

"Oh I'm sure I can convince him to go. What time?" The shriek that explodes out of Delly's mouth makes my eye twitch, and she has resumed the bouncing from before.

"Yay! We're meeting there at 9! Come over a little before and we can carpool! See you guys soon!" I nod once at Delly, turning and walking back inside, leaving my door open so Peeta can follow once he can escape Delly.

I heave myself up onto the table top where my pills recently sat, swinging my legs as I wait for Peeta. When he finally manages to come inside, he walks towards where I sit, dropping a duffle bag on the floor before leaning against the wall across from me and folding his arms across his chest. My eyes fall on the bag.

"Um is that what I think it is? I look from the bag to his face, not at all surprised to find an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips.

"That depends on what you think it is." His voice is seductive or something along those lines and I raise my eyebrows at him.

"What I think it is, is you being presumptuous." Peeta laughs a cocky chuckle, pushing off the wall, coming to stand in front of me. Placing his hands on the table on either side of me, but careful not to actually come in contact with me in any way, he leans forward and speaks lowly in my ear.

"No. You don't." I fight off the goose bumps and shudder that threaten to tell him how much this is turning me on.

"So maybe I don't. You're still an ass." Peeta snorts in my ear, and I respond by slapping his arm playfully. The flirting with this kid never stops. Pulling back he places a kiss on my forehead, caring sweet Peeta taking the place of dangerous cocky Peeta in an instant. It's astounding how much I enjoy them both. Wrapping my arms around him, I rest my head on his chest, as his arms follow suit.

"So what's Geoffrey's like?" His voice sounds 10 times louder when my ear is pressed up against him like this.

"It's the only bar I really like actually. Kind of a dive, kind of beat up, but the music is great and you can smoke inside." I feel the laughter bubble in his chest, and reluctantly pull away to look at the clock. It reads 8:10pm.

"I hope you brought clothes in that bag of yours, because we probably won't have time to go get you any."

Peeta waggles his eyebrows at me. "Oh don't worry. I always come prepared."

Shaking my head and rolling my eyes at him, I slide off the table and walk into the kitchen. I mix up two whiskey and cokes, handing Peeta one once he emerges from the bathroom. He's now wearing a pair of jeans (and he is fucking wearing them _well_), and a simple – not to mention wonderfully tight – black t-shirt. He accepts the drink and after I tell him I'm going to change, he heads into the living room, flopping down onto the couch and turning on my TV. I smirk to myself as I head into my room. I think I like how comfortable Peeta feels here. Initially it freaked me out, but as I grow comfortable around him, it makes me feel safe to know he's equally as comfortable around me.

Standing before my closet, I eye my wardrobe, wishing something were new or different or at least appealing. I sip my drink, relishing the taste of whiskey running down my throat, finally choosing a black and grey striped silk shirt, a pair of black jean shorts that are fraying at the ends, and my black gladiator sandals. Delly's friends will most likely be more dressed up, and if we were going to someplace nicer I may be as well, but this is Geoffrey's and based on the amount of drunk I am planning on getting tonight comfort is key.

After I get dressed I untangle my hair from its braid and apply some eye make-up. Before walking out to rejoin Peeta I quickly pull out my bottle of xanax and deposit a few in my pocket, just in case. Since Peeta arrived it's been easy to steer my mind off of mine and Gale's earlier conversation or confrontation, but the xanax are there for if I lose the ability to control my thoughts. I don't particularly care for people who drink and become emotional waste cases, and I have no intentions on being once myself tonight.

I finish my drink as I am walking into the living room, and I eye Peeta's half full one, raising my eyebrows. He catches my drift and holds up his hands.

"Are you judging me Everdeen?"

I grin at him.

"No. I was just going to say I'm sure Delly has some Mike's hard lemonade next door if you can't handle the whiskey." I turn and walk into the kitchen and begin mixing myself another drink. Peeta comes to join me moments later, making a big show of setting down his newly empty glass next to mine to be refilled. I laugh and elbow him playfully in the ribs.

"Well look at you."

He snorts. After I hand him a glass, I turn to face him.

"We should probably head next door soon. After these drinks." I nod at him in agreement, and watch as he dramatically downs his drink quickly. When he finishes he slams his glass down and points at my still full cup.

"You know I heard there may be some Mike's Hard at Delly's if you'd prefer that." I laugh uncontrollably before finishing my drink and grabbing my purse. I grab his arm and pull him along with me.

"Come on smartass let's go."

* * *

**Next chapter: There will be a little definition for the Katniss/Peeta relationship/where it is heading. There will be more Gale, and there will be more exploration into Peeta's past as well as how it affects him now. **


	9. Chapter 9

**I'm so sorry for how long this took. Since I last posted I have moved, been working longer hours at work and my personal life has been a tad upturned multiple times. I hope the fact that this chapter is longer makes up for the wait? Also if anyone knows of a killer beta I think having one will actually help me get chapters out more quickly, so message me if you are interested or know of anyone who would be! **

* * *

We meet Delly at her door, heading down to pile into her SUV. Peeta insists I sit up front, and I gratefully accept thanks to the knowledge that Delly is picking up some of her friends on our way and the last thing in the world I want is to be in the back with her sorority sisters. Once we pick them up however, I begin to instantly regret taking the front seat. As one of Delly's friends slides her way into Peeta's lap all I can think about it how I should have made him sit up front where none of Delly's constantly horny friends would have access to him. The girl in Peeta's lap – Samantha – is shamelessly flirting with Peeta and I feel jealously boil inside of me, threatening to take over in what I'm sure could prove to be interesting ways. As she wriggles in his lap obviously trying to mark him or something along those lines, she takes to running a hand up and down him arm. She's talking to him quietly and he seems to be doing his best to not touch her at all, but when I hear her tell him she's going to buy him a drink once we get to the bar because "it's the least she can do", his eyes lock on mine in the rear view mirror.

"That's nice of you Sarah, but not necessary." She guffaws like he told her the funniest joke in the world.

"Come on, we're both single and I owe you for the ride." She bites her bottom lip and shifts in his lap, trying to flirt but looking like 10 cents to dance. I've already decided that beating the fuck out of her once we get to the parking lot will be worth the jail time when I hear Peeta speak up once again. I meet his eyes in the mirror once again, and I can read the mischievous look in them. What is he up to?

"Actually Sarah, I don't think I'm single. At least I hope I'm not." My mouth parts open. I didn't expect that. I honestly was expecting him to goad her on a little to get me more jealous or something but Peeta is nothing like the other guys I've "been with". My mind is having trouble coming up with a response but my mouth is already moving before I realize what it is that I'm saying.

"You are definitely not single." I state evenly. Peeta smirks, and the girl looks at me shocked while Delly squeals.

When we finally pull into the bar parking lot, the slut in Peeta's lap is the first one out of the car, practically before we even stop moving. It would have made me laugh normally, but not only has today been a fucking shitstorm of emotions I usually try my best to avoid; I was just tricked into dating someone. Well, maybe not "tricked" but the way it happened definitively caught me off guard, an when we exit the car, I make sure the look in my eyes lets Peeta know exactly that. He grabs me by the wrist, holding us back from the group, turning to me anxiously.

"Sorry. I'm not in trouble for that am I?" His eyes are searching mine, and as angry as I would normally expect to be, I don't have it in me to be upset with him. I sigh dramatically, and roll my eyes for effect, hoping he can't tell how my lips are fighting a smile.

"In trouble for what exactly?"

"Uh, for letting that girl sit on my lap I guess. And for using it to ask you out. In a car full of people." His eyes dart to the ground, and he looks so defeated that I abandon my pretend anger and laugh.

"No you're not in trouble you idiot. She was flirting with you and I wont lose sleep if she gets run over by a car, but you weren't flirting back. As for the second part I can't decide if it was really smooth or really cheesy. I'm glad it shut her the fuck up though." Peeta releases my wrist, grinning at me now, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"It was smooth and you fucking know it." I once again roll my eyes at him but can't stop the smile that spreads across my face. I wrap my arms around his neck, using them to lift myself onto my toes.

"Whatever Peeta. Will you just kiss me so we can go in the bar and you can buy me a drink?" He laughs before nodding his head and leaning into me. My body is flush against his, our lips moving together, and I'm unaware of how long we stand there in plain sight making out until Dell's voice from the bar interrupts us.

"Look as adorable as you two are, stop making out, it's time to drink!" Peeta and I break apart, and catch our respective breaths.

"You heard the lady." I snort at him, and he wraps his right arm around my waist as we walk towards the bar. At the entrance the bouncer stops us and Peeta pulls out his wallet, but I don't bother with mine. Stepping forward, I hold out my wrist and the man in the black security shirt places a blue "21" band on my arm. Shit. I have no idea if Peeta is 21, so before he steps up, I place my hand on the security man's arm.

"He's with me Joe." Peeta looks at me quizzically when Joe bands him without seeing an ID and without questions.

"Uh thanks. How much is cover?" Joe smiles at Peeta.

"Naw man, Kat here's a regular. Don't worry about it." Peeta nods at Joe and I shoot him a smile, dragging Peeta inside behind me.

The bar is darker, to hide how shitty it actually looks, and the cold air mixes with the smell of cigarette smoke, beer and mold in a way that instantly makes me calm. I lead Peeta over towards the bar, an when the bartender sees us he heads straight over, ignoring the other customers.

"Hey what can I get you guys?" I'm about to answer hen I hear Peeta speaking.

"Two double whiskey and cokes." He looks down at me sheepishly. "Uh I mean if that's what you want?" I smile and nod at him.

"With limes." Peeta grins back at me before turning back to the bartender.

"With limes." The bartender mixes our drinks quickly, and Peeta pays before I even have a chance to reach for my wallet.

"I was kidding you know, you don't have to buy me a drink." This time it's Peeta who is rolling his eyes at me while handing me a bar napkin.

"Katniss please. Don't complain about me spending money on you when you've supplied me with food, liquor and cigarettes plenty of times." I huff at him.

"Fine I guess." He grins and shakes his head at me, casually slinging his arm over my shoulder, leading us over to our group, but not before placing his lips close to my ear.

"Just wait until I take you out on an actual date because I'm going to spoil the shit out of you Everdeen." I make a grunting noise in distaste and Peeta responds by laughing at me. When we reach the group, Peeta slides his arm off of me so he can shake hands with one of the girl's boyfriends. While he's distracted in conversation, two girls quickly appear at my side and I force myself into suppressing what I can only assume would have been an offensively loud sigh. The two girls are sort of friends of Delly's, but I know one from middle school. They look like stepford wives in fucking training with their straight blonde hair, wedges, high waisted skirts and flowery tops. I reach into my purse, ignoring them the best I can thanks to the apparent fact that neither of them are aware of what "personal space" is, lighting a cigarette before finally acknowledging their extremely close presence to me. the one wearing a green skirt – Emily – speaks first.

"Hey Katniss! So Bekkah was telling me in the car that Peeta said he's not single and that you might know who he's dating? Is it serious?" Her fake enthusiasm in this fake, not to mention minorly insulting conversation is making me want to vomit. I've never understood why conversations with these girls are always so drenched in double meaning and hidden agendas. I swear everything feels like some fucking political mind match and I've never had the capacity to care or play along. I tend to be fairly blunt. Tilting my drink towards my mouth, I take a large mouthful in, and pull on my cigarette, my eyes never moving from the two idiots in front on me. God I hope my eyes convey how dumb I think they are. Exhaling slowly I finally answer.

"Me. He's dating me." I purposefully avoid the second part of her question, because I'm not really sure how to answer it. Whatever Peeta and I have going on definitely feels really fucking serious but I'm afraid that if I admit that out loud I'm going to start panicking and run for the hills as much as I don't want to. It's like part of who I am to get the hell out of dodge when things get real, so not admitting it to my self is the best option for the time being. The blonde in the blue skirt – Jessa – is staring at me, her mouth wide open, tempting me to see if I can throw an ice cube in it – when Emily speaks again.

"You can't be serious." I'm bored of this conversation at this point, but trapped nonetheless.

"Yeah, I'm being pretty fucking serious." My voice is monotone, but hers has gone from fake sincerity to cruel and incredulous extraordinarily quickly.

"But you're dating Gale." I sigh.

"No, I was fucking Gale, but not anymore. We were never dating. But I am dating Peeta. And while this has been more fun than I could have possible imagined, I need another drink. And I'm pretty sure my boyfriend does too." I put out my cigarette and walk past them, directly to Peeta, consciously laying my hand on his lower back. For some reason, after that conversation, I feel it's important to show these twats that Peeta and I are here together. When he feels my hand on his back, he looks down at me and grins.

"Hey sorry. We got to talking about the basketball season."

"It's fine, I was just seeing if you need another drink." He nods and I take his empty glass. When he reaches for his wallet, I shake my head no.

"Nope. This ones on me." He begins to protest, so I quickly stand on my toes and kiss him on the mouth, my eyes darting to the posse of girls watching us closely. I place another lingering kiss on his lips, and when I'm finished I sink back to the ground on flat feet. His eyes flicker over to the group of girls and he grins at me.

"Marking your territory?" I place my hand on his chest and my fingers plays with the divot between his pecs.

"You better fucking believe it. Those girls are vultures and they all want the same thing right now. You." I feel my face flinch with anger. Peeta leans down and places his lips close my ear.

"Too bad for them all I want is you." My heart begins to beat quickly and I swallow trying in vain to not get too turned on this early in the night. That would be dangerous considering the involvement of alcohol, my jealousy, and the fact that I have so much pent up sexual aggression running through my veins right now; because there's a good chance that the combination of those three things could lead me into fucking him in the bathroom of the bar.

"If you don't stop doing that Peeta I'm not going to be able to help what I do." I meant to tell him to stop turning me on, but my words seem to have the opposite effect that I was intending because he quickly places his hands on my hips and goes after my mouth rather aggressively. When he pulls away I am holding both empty glasses in my hands between our chests, trying to catch my breath.

"You're going to be the death of me Katniss Everdeen." I try my best to smile deviously, and stumble away from him to get more drinks. If being around Peeta is going to reduce me to a mushy mess of adolescent smiles and giggles I am going to need a lot more booze. I deposit the empty glasses on the bar top, and wait on two fresh ones. I can't help but think about how fun and relaxed this is. I don't feel suffocated by Peeta, and I've spent more time with him since I've met him than I've ever purposefully spent with anyone. Leaning against the bar I watch him across the room, smiling and laughing as Delly's flame of the month – Clark I think – tells what I'm assuming is a story. When we first met there was that normal carnal need I feel when I see someone hot, but lately I've noticed how that word or description doesn't necessarily do him justice.

I mean yeah, obviously he's hot, I'd have to be blind to not notice the way every girl near him is eyeing him like he just walked out of their wildest fantasies, and I'd really have to be blind to not notice how utterly amazing his body is, how his stubble is perfect and his eyes are almost inhumanely blue. But what I'm seeing now, what I've noticed as I've gotten to know him, is better. It's breathtaking actually. The way his eyes crinkle when he laughs. How gentle his hands, hip lips, even his eyes are. How the small amount of hair on his chest is darker than the hair on his head. How his eyes give away his emotions, but always have a spark of something good in them. He isn't hot, he's beautiful. Something about him has me spinning. In a matter of days he has managed to do something to me nothing has ever done before, not the pills, not the booze, not the drugs, not the therapy, not even Madge. A few days ago, I was content with sleeping and never waking up and he has managed to guide me out of my darkness, not by force, not by guilt, but by just being there, and making me want to escape it, just so I can bask in being around him. He's like the mother-fucking sun. I'm so caught between running away and plowing forward, no fucks to give, that he's been gently leading me in a direction that is safe and new. I came here tonight intent on indulging my favorite demons, but now all I want to do is go home and watch movies on my couch with him.

Just honestly, what the hell is happening to me?

Peeta catches my eyes on him and smiles at me, and I can feel my cheeks blushing as I smile back. The bartender finally sets my drinks down in front of me, and I leave his money and tip on the bar, taking the glasses in my hands. The bar has filled up fairly quickly since we got here, meaning I'll have to cut my way around the crowd. Sighing, I turn around to begin the fucking worst process on the planet, when I am met square on by none other than Gale fucking Hawthorne standing right in front of me. This kid doesn't fucking quit.

"Hey Catnip." He's seriously smiling right now, like he thinks this situation is funny, or will make a good story for our kids or some shit.

"What the fuck Gale." It's all I say to him, before I turn left and begin to move as quickly as I can through the crowd. I'm almost to Peeta when a hand on my shoulder stops me abruptly, the full drinks in my hand sloshing their contents onto my legs. I whip around, unable to contain my anger.

"Gale, seriously? I told you once already today to leave me alone. Are you actually fucking stupid?" I almost regret my words, because Gale has really only ever been a good friend, but he is getting under my skin in all the wrong ways right now.

Gale holds his hands out in front of him as a sign of surrender.

I'm not here to do anything stupid Catnip. You're here with him, I've got that. But Delly invited me and it would look weird if I didn't show. No funny business I swear."

I side eye him, shaking my head, not quite believing him.

"Ok. I believe you" He snorts at my obvious lie. Behind me I feel Peeta walk up and I turn handing him his drink. He eyes Gale suspiciously and to my surprise Gale sticks his hand out to shake Peeta's.

"Look man, I'm sorry about the other night. I was out of control. It won't happen again."

Peeta shakes his hand, nodding.

"Thanks man. I appreciate it." With that Gale saunters over towards the group, while I stand dumbfounded. Am I in the fucking Twilight zone? Beside me, Peeta sets his drink down on the table, before wrapping his arms around my waist from behind.

"What are the chances that you could be convinced to go out on the dance floor with me?"

I let out a single laugh.

"I'd day 0 right now, but that percentage increases the more I drink."

Peeta laughs behind me, the rumble of his chest causing my skin to actually prickle.

"Well then, I think some shots are in order."

Grabbing his drink in one hand, and me in the other, Peeta walks us over to the bar. He orders two shots of tequila and grins mischievously at me.

"It's too bad we're in a bar because when you lick this salt off of me I'll have to work really hard at containing myself."

"You're drunk." I smile, shaking my head at him.

"Not even close. You're just wearing those shorts, and all I can think about is you wrapping those legs around me."

I choke a little on my drink.

"You don't' stop do you?"

He smirks at me, lowering his lips to my ear.

"You have no idea sweetheart."

I feel a rush of heat to my chest. Not having sex with Peeta is going to be the most difficult thing I've ever done, especially when he's talking to me this way. He flashes me a grin reaching over to take our recently delivered shots, the salt and two limes. I watch him trail his finger in the condensation pooling around his drink glass, before dipping it in the salt. He hands me my shot before bringing his finger to my mouth. Never breaking eye contact I part my lips, reaching my tongue out, using it to bring his finger slowly into my mouth, just as slowly sucking the salt off the tip. Never leaving his eyes, I take my shot off the counter, tipping my head back and drowning the biting liquor quickly. Setting the glass down Peeta holds a lime out to me. I bring his hand to my lips with my own, biting down on the lime, licking my lips once I'm finished. Peeta's game may lie in his words, but mine is purely action based. He clears his throat after a beat.

"I think you should take the other one too." I smile and shake my head. I drew attention taking the shot the way I did, so it's not happening again.

"Sorry, but I think you weren't the only one entertained." Peeta looks around; clearly displeased with the male (and some female) attention I've gained and quickly takes his shot.

"Do you want to go outside and smoke?" He begins steering me towards the back entrance of the bar before I even have a chance to respond, and I laugh at his protectiveness.

Once we are sitting outside, lit cigarettes in hand, he looks at me sheepishly.

"Sorry. I know you can handle yourself, but I'm afraid if one of those guys had said something I would have been compelled to put them in their place."

"Oh, so you weren't protecting me, it was merely self preservation." I smile and nudge his knee with my own and Peeta laughs a little, but his eyes are serious.

"Yeah a little. A bar fight isn't my idea of a good time. I've been in too many to know I don't want to be in any more."

My curiosity level spikes, but now is not the time to ask him how on earth someone as gentle and living as him could end up in a bar brawl.

"What if one of the girls had said something instead?" I'm toying with him now, to lighten the situation, knowing I've succeeded when his eyebrows almost shoot off his face.

"That would have been entirely ok with me."

I burst out laughing. It's probably the liquor making me feel this way, but my filter is gone, my guard down.

"I love how comfortable I am around you." I take a sip of my drink, watching his reaction to my words. He grins.

"I know what you mean." He pauses for a moment, moving closer to me, sliding his hand up my inner thigh. "But not too comfortable I hope."

Unconsciously I lean into his side. God I want him to fucking take me against the wall or something.

"You know, this morning was so hot Katniss. I've been thinking about it all day." He inches his hand under the edge of my shorts. "All I can think is that if that was so amazing, everything else is going to be fucking unbelievable." He leans into me, kissing my neck, causing me to shudder. "I know we're not having sex just yet, and I'm a huge fan of letting the anticipation build but in the meantime…." He bites down on my earlobe. For the love of fucking God.

"Peeta, if you don't stop I'm going to be able to walk home." He pulls away, removing his hand and grinning at me.

"Sorry. I just get carried away around you."

"Don't apologize. Trust me, I was enjoying it." I shift in my seat, turning to peer inside of the bar. I catch Gales' eyes on me but he quickly looks away. Delly and all of her friends have reached the point of intoxication where they stand around hugging, and telling each other why they think the other is simply wonderful, and I am struck by the overwhelming desire to leave. Peeta must read my mind.

"I don't know about you, but I don't really feel like going back in there."

"Me either. I'd rather go to the liquor store, buy a bottle and enjoy the night, or just go back to my place and get stoned." I'm just recklessly throwing ideas out here – I don't even know if Peeta smokes – so I'm surprised when he drains his drink, standing up, offering his hand to me.

"Then let's do that. Both of those things." I smile, draining my own drink, grabbing his hand.

"Should we tell Delly we're leaving?" He looks inside, cringing a little bit at what he sees. I'm guessing it probably involves a lot of tears.

"No. She'll just assume we wanted to be alone so we left. Which is technically true."

"Alright. Is there a liquor store close by?"

I nod at him. We aren't far from my apartment, and in between where we are and my place is a liquor store. I wrap my fingers around his, leading him to the store down the street.

Thanks to the rain from earlier, the night is cool, a rarity in Florida. There's a light breeze blowing as we walk, and Peeta eventually opts to release my hand and wrap an arm around my waist instead. We walk in silence, simply enjoying the night, and after 10 minutes we reach the store.

"You're 21 right?" I ask before we walk in.

"Yep. Earlier this year. You?"

"Yeah, in May. It's weird we know so much about each other, but I didn't even know if you were 21." Peeta shrugs as he holds the door open for me.

"Getting to know things like that is just part of the process." We slowly begin to browse the aisles as we talk.

"What process?"

He shrugs again.

"Dating I guess. I mean I've only had one serious girlfriend but isn't hat how it goes?" He picks up a bottle of vodka that is whipped cream flavor, and makes a face of disgust. "It's like they try to make vodka more disgusting on purpose." I laugh while he sets the bottle down, and we continue meandering the store. I'm quiet for a moment before picking back up on our conversation.

"I've actually never really dated. Anyone. Ever." We've moved in front of the gin now, and I pick up a bottle, pretending to be interested.

"Wait seriously? I assumed you and Gale were ex's or something." I feel the pit of my stomach drop. How the fuck and I supposed to tell the only guy I've ever liked – really actually liked – that I'm basically a whore?

"Um well no actually. We weren't ever together like that."

"Oh." Peeta is silent until we are standing in front of the shelves of beer.

"Would it be cool if we got a case of beer? If we're smoking I'd rather just have something refreshing if that makes sense."

I'm preoccupied trying to figure out if I'm just imagining the shift in the atmosphere so I simply nod a yes to him. He picks up a case of Dos Equis, and I follow him to the cash register. I offer him money, which he declines, and we walk out of the store in silence. I take the lead, Peeta following, our silence clawing into my stomach. Less than 6 hours in and I've already fucked this up.

As we walk back to my apartment in what feels like a funeral procession, I begin to panic. After I unlock my door Peeta walks inside and immediately veers right, searching my kitchen until he finds the bottle opener. Grabbing the case he walks into the living room, sitting cross-legged on the floor. He gestures to the spot in front of him and I sit mirroring his posture, leaning over to the coffee table to grab my grinder and joint roller. Clearing my throat and paying attention to my work, purposefully not looking at him, I attempt to break our heavy silence.

"Look I'm sorry if it weird's you out that Gale was my fuck buddy. I didn't have any feelings for him which probably doesn't fucking help at all, but I didn't. In face, I've never had feelings for anyone I've slept with. Which is why I want to wait. With you I mean. Because I think sex with you won't just be about fucking or whatever you know? And that scares the shit out of me. "

I place the weed in the roller before taking a joint paper and wetting the top with my tongue. He remains silent, making me nervous. I want to get up and run the fuck away. After I place the paper and begin to roll the joint, I fold again under the weight of the quiet.

"Uh if you don't feel the same way, that's cool, don't worry about it. I know sleeping around is literally the least attractive thing in the world, but I kind of assumed this is different? I don't know, it feels different to me, but if you don't feel the same way -"

"Katniss shut up." His words startle me, and I almost drop the now rolled joint.

"First of all, you could never be unattractive to me. I don't care who you've slept with or how many people you've slept with. Secondly, it is different with you and me. So different it kind of confuses and scares me too. Finally, and this is really immature, but I'm really fucking relieved you and Gale aren't ex's because girls practically fall over themselves when he walks into a room. I just can't believe you would choose me over him is all."

He looks so serious, so concerned, that when I start to laugh I quickly try to make myself stop.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but Peeta, oh my god, you are so much more attractive than Gale. Girls practically throw themselves at you. And it's no contest between you two I swear, because even if there was it wouldn't be much of a match."

"I'm hotter than Gale huh?" I roll my eyes at him.

"Shut up and open a beer for me." Peeta smiles smugly at me before passing me a beer. Scooting back with his drink in his hand, he leans against the couch, motioning for me to join him. Joint in hand I rest my head against his shoulder, lighting the joint after drinking more of my drink.

"Just so you know it's really hot that you can roll a joint." I snort handing him the weed.

"I used a joint roller. I cheated." He laughs turning so his side is leaning against the couch and he is looking at me. I turn as well, and he bends his leg closest to the couch. I slither my legs around his, one tucked under his outstretched leg, the other draped over it. I place my elbow in the couch and lean my cheek against his knee, looking up at him. He takes in some smoke and slowly lets it seep out of his mouth. Absentmindedly I reach up and tuck a piece of his hair behind his ear.

"How on earth does someone like you exist?" I startle myself by asking the question out loud. He places the joint between my lips and I take it in, his eyes never leaving mine.

"For someone like you to find I suppose." I exhale slowly, the smoke hanging around us like a thick cloud. Peeta pulls on the joint for a long moment, before he sets it down on the ash tray next to us, and leans in to me. Taking my chin in his hand he pulls my face to his, placing his open mouth on mine, blowing the smoke into me. He pulls away briefly so we can both exhale and breathe in clean air, before once again closing the space between us. The kiss is long and slow, building more and more heated with every second that passes. I begin to reach down between us, not even thinking and just letting my body run this show, when my phone rings. Our mouths part, our foreheads resting against each other's.

"Fuck." I pant.

"Just ignore it." Peeta implores me, his lips attaching themselves to my neck. I'm tempted to do just that, until I hear the ring tone more clearly. The song playing is "Charmer" by Kings of Leon, which is Madge's ring tone, and only hers. I push Peeta off of me, and offer him an apologetic glance.

"It's Madge I'm sorry." Peeta smiles his understanding at me, pushing some hair behind my ear and picking up the joint to relight it as I answer my phone.

"Madge?" I can make out loud music and laughter in the background, and instantly become concerned. Even though I'm maybe the least trustworthy human on this planet, Madge always let's me know where she's going just in case, but hse hadn't told me she was going out tonight.

"Katniss? Hey. Thank God. Are you sober?"

No.

"Yes, I am. What's wrong?"

"I came to a party, and the people I came with are all super wasted and I really need to leave. I'm super sketched out right now."

I stand up immediately at the panic in her voice, and begin collecting my things, motioning for Peeta to follow me. I don't know why exactly, but there's a sinking feeling telling me I need to bring back up.

"Madge, where are you?"

"A house off of Lovelace." I tuck the phone behind my ear, as I lock the door behind Peeta and I.

"I need you to be more specific."

There's a pause and I can feel just how nervous Madge really is, in turn making me doubly anxious, especially considering the types of place Madge has accompanied me too without even batting an eye.

"MADGE!" My voice must sound super urgent because Peeta's eyes are full of concern, and he places a hand on my forearm. I hear Madge clear her throat.

"You know the place Kat. It's….. it's Chaff's."

Peeta and I have made it into the parking lot by now, but at Madge's words I freeze, completely unable to move.

"Katniss?" I break out of my zombie like state at Madge's voice and shake my head a little, as if to clear it.

"We're on our way Madge."

"Thank you Katniss. And my phone is almost dead, but I don't feel safe waiting outside, so just honk when you get here."

"Ok, we'll see you soon."

I click off my phone and climb into the car, my hands on the steering wheel, as I force myself to take a deep breath. Peeta sits silently in the passengers seat, but when I finally start the car he breaks his silence.

"Katniss what's going on?"

"Madge is at a party a guy we know from high school is throwing."

"Is that a bad thing?"

I can feel the tears pooling in my eyes. I'm literally walking Peeta into the last place I would ever want him to be, a room full of people who had front seats to the show that was my self destruction.

"Yeah Peeta. It's a bad thing."


	10. Chapter 10

**So I've had the flu. And my identity stolen. But I think long updates are my thing now anyways? I will get to the PM messages I have which I'm sure are about a beta which this chapter probably desperately needed. But enjoy and let me know what you think!**

* * *

The alarm next to me keeps going off, but instead of waking up I choose to hit the snooze, bringing my arm up in an effort to make the damn thing fucking shut up. When my arm bumps into the back of another person instead of reaching out towards my nightstand my eyes fly open. Shit. Who the fuck is in bed with me? I can't believe this is happening again. I mean I can, I just don't want to fully believe it because admitting that I am maybe the worst person alive isn't something I am ready to do. I've found that denial; drugs, booze, and sex are so much better than admitting that I may have a problem. What fun is recovery? You have to be sober to recover. I never want to be sober again. Which is how once again I am waking up next to a fucking stranger with the taste of cigarettes in my mouth and what I'm suspecting is cum in my hair.

And I'm fucking late for first period.

An hour later I pull up in the parking lot of school, showered, in jeans and a sweatshirt, which both, by some miracle, are clean. I park my car and lean back in my seat waiting for the bell to ring in 15 minutes. I completely missed first period but it wasn't an important day so I'll be fine. Right now I'm more concerned with trying to piece together the events of last night. After I had woken up and showered I had to kick my one night stand out of my house. Thankfully my mother wasn't home, because she never fucking is, so I didn't have to deal with that mess. He was attractive at least, and from what I remembered his dick was lovely. I picked up his jeans and went through the pockets for any clues and found a parking ticket for a parking garage downtown, across from one of the college bars I go to when I'm too lazy to spend money on drinks. I love being a girl sometimes. Flash your tits a little or wear a short skirt and guys will spend tons of money to get in between your legs. Really, it's a beautiful thing. I found his wallet in his back pocket, to see how old this dude was, but what I found was not what I was expecting. As soon as I saw the name on the id I almost choked on thin air. Jason Lawson. Fuck. Jason Lawson as in Sarah Lawson's brother, as in Chaff's girlfriend and best friend. God. Damn. It. I panicked. I almost didn't go to school. I almost left him in my house for my mom to find. Instead I woke him up and made him leave, and he went without any complaints, just a cheeky fucking grin that made my stomach turn.

Now sitting in the school parking lot I wait for Madge to emerge from class and walk with me to our second period class. If anyone knows, Madge will have heard about it, and she'll tell me as soon as she sees me, because for some reason everyone here likes Madge and she is popular but she still hangs out with me. I couldn't for the life of me tell you why but god bless her for being my only friend.

When the bell rings I feel dread fill me. Now or never I guess. I couldn't really keep my less than Christian escapades a secret for much longer, not at the rate I'm going. Popping a xanax in my mouth, I drain it with the large coffee I picked up on the way, and grab the one I brought for Madge. She might as well get something out of this friendship. Sucks that it's only a daily latte from starbucks.

I lean on the side of my car as I watch her approach. She doesn't look thrilled. Shit. She comes to lean next to me and I wordlessly hand her her coffee, not bothering to look at her, instead adjusting the sunglasses on my face.

"So any good rumors going around the mill this morning?" I ask dryly.

"Yeah. Actually I was thinking maybe we should cut classes today."

Well that fucking catches my attention. Madge never cuts class. Ever. I turn to look at her, her gaze downcast at her shoes.

"Is it really that bad? Just fucking tell me."

"Katniss…." She still won't look at me and her voice is tiny. I never really understood how someone's voice could have size until now.

"Madge just tell me I'm a big girl, I can handle it."

She sighs, and looks at me finally.

"Katniss, how much of last night do you remember?"

I snort. "How much do you think?"

"Shit Kat. You know you fucked Jason Lawson right?"

I can feel my cheeks redden. I know I'm pretty much a whore but hearing my best friend ask if I know who I fucked last night is worse than self admittance.

"Uh yeah I know. Not my best moment."

Madge sighs and runs her hand through her hair, motioning me to the car. She walks around to the passenger's side and climbs in, giving me no choice but to follow. I slide in, place my keys in the ignition, but don't turn them.

"Madge we can skip class but not until you tell me why."

She rubs her eyes, like I've seen my mom do when she realizes she spent all our bill money on mediums and other ridiculous shit.

"Katniss, there are pictures. He took pictures and I'm pretty sure I heard there was a video."

I stare at her for a few long minutes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Taking a deep breath I turn my car on and drive off of campus.

* * *

That night, after seeing the pictures and the video thanks to a facebook group called "Katniss Gone Wild", I over dose on roxies. When I wake up a few days later in the mental ward of the local hospital, my mom can't look at me. She never really does again.

Those moments are all I can think about on the drive to Chaff's house. After I was finally allowed out of the ward I talked my mom into letting me finish my courses at the online school in town, where I only had to go in to take tests. I haven't really seen anyone from high school besides Madge since. I didn't really give them a chance to humiliate me in person like I knew they wanted.

Looks like they're about to get it, and Peeta has a front row seat.

When we finally get to the house I quickly realize there is no parking. There isn't even really a place for me to sit in my car to honk the horn. Sighing, I find parking down the street. After I turn my car off, Peeta and I sit in silence for a few moments before he speaks up.

"Ok on a scale of 1 to 10 how bad is bad in Katniss land? Just so I'm prepared." He doesn't look pissed that I left him with such a cliffhanger, and his silence on the drive wasn't disconcerting, especially since he spent the drive with his hand on my neck, smoothing the hair there. He was giving me space and some time. Because he's literally a perfect human being. Out of all the things about my past I don't want him to know, this may rank in the top three. Sighing, I twist in my seat and look at him, the concern etched on his face nearly causing me to tear up because that's apparently the type of person I am now.

"Well it depends I guess. I just….." I sigh and look out the window trying to rein it in. I really need to get it the fuck together if I'm about to walk into this house full of people I literally hoped to never see again.

I finally look back at him and bring my hands up to my face, rubbing it to try and make myself speak.

"After my dad and Prim died, I kind of lost it. Not in a fun movie way or anything, but I started to party and drink and do drugs because I just didn't care anymore."

"Didn't care about what?" Peeta's hand is on my thigh now, encouraging me to go on. I stare at it because I can't look at him while I tell him any of this.

"I don't know. Living? I just wanted to do shit that would make it easier I guess. And it was easier to not remember doing things than to try and work through it all. So I drank and I started sleeping around. Fuck, I really didn't want to have to tell you this."

I feel his hand under my chin, forcing me to look up, and when I do I'm met with the most sincere look I may have ever seen another person emit from their eyes. Or maybe I'm just putting it there because it's what I want to see.

"Katniss I already told you, I don't care who you've slept with or how many people you've slept with. It's not like I'm some precious virgin, I've had my fair share of one night stands."

I can't help the laugh I let out at his words. I don't know what he means by fair share, but I doubt its anywhere close to the impressive number I've racked up over the years.

"Ok, but remember that promise when I tell you this next part." He nods silently and I take a deep breath in order to continue, because dragging this out means I have a few more moments where he cares about me and wants to be with me, and I want to revel in that feeling for as long as I can.

"My senior year of high school, I hooked up with this guy and he fucking taped it. I didn't know about it but the kids I went to high school made this Facebook group with all the pictures and video and it was the fucking worst. I guess it was the straw that broke the camels back in my downward spiral because I OD'd on pills the same night but I obviously survived. Eventually I left school and finished the year online because I couldn't handle the shit they would have said."

Peeta's hand has stopped its comforting movement on my thigh and when I meet his gaze his eyes are blue steel, and not the zoolander kind. I fucking knew it. No one wants to date someone with this much fucked up shit in their baggage.

"And these people at this house, they made that group and spread that shit? Is the guy who videoed it in there?"

Well okay, that was not the question I was expecting. More like "Can you tell me the address so the cab knows where to get me?" I furrow my eyebrows and place my hand on his.

"Uh the kids definitely are. In some cruel twist of fate like half of my senior class decided to come to school here. As for the guy, I don't know, but he's Chaff's best friend and his girlfriend's brother so maybe? I don't know I haven't kept up with any of them."

"Why the fuck is Madge at a party with them?" Peeta looks pissed and not at me, and I'm really fucking confused. He is mad at the people at the party, which was not what I was expected and now he's asking the question I never let myself ask. Why does she still hang out with these people?

"I don't know. I mean she graduated with them, and some of them are alright. She's not like me, people like her, she's capable of having more than one friend."

Before I know it Peeta's hands are on my face, forcing direct eye contact.

"You are perfect. Don't talk about yourself like you aren't. You have more than one friend, you just have good taste in them. A few good friends is a fuck ton better than a bunch of shitty ones."

Well that's some perspective.

"Ok, but don't be mad at Madge. Seriously, I couldn't handle it if my boyfriend hated my best friend."

Shit. I just called him my boyfriend; we have just been dating for a few hours. I'm going to seem like I'm the clingiest person in the world and really it's the exact opposite. I hate words. They are the worst especially when you say them and they don't mean what you want them to mean. Luckily, Peeta flashes a grin at me instead of looking at me like the bat shit crazy person I am.

"I promise, your boyfriend doesn't hate your best friend. Actually I like her a lot. I know she's been there for you when no one else has. I couldn't possible hate her."

I roll my eyes as he continues to grin, probably happy he got me to call him my boyfriend. That smirk of his is going to be the death of me in the long run, I know it.

Holy fuck. The long run? What the actual shit Everdeen. I really need to talk to Madge. Unfortunately that means I have to go save her from this party. Sighing I open my door and Peeta follows suit, jogging to join me as I begin to walk to the house party.

"Let's get this shit over with and go home." I say, not particularly to anyone, but Peeta's arm comes up around my shoulders protectively, and I wrap mine around his waist, instinctively laying my head on his chest as we walk. He kisses the top of my head.

"Don't worry. No one can touch you. Except for me. I can touch you."

I laugh out loud at his obvious attempt to calm me, surprised that it's working.

"Yes, you can touch me, but not until we get back to the apartment." We finally make our way to the door, pushing past some girl puking by the steps (oh how many times that has been me), and without knocking Peeta throws it open.

Inside the house smells musky; I can practically see the steam that comes from having a hundred people crammed in a 3-person house rolling out of the door as we walk in. The smell of spilt liquor and beer is pungent. To our right a beer pong table has been set up and people are piled around it, which is to be expected. People are sitting on sporadically placed chairs, while others stand huddled in different groups. Two guys are fighting for control of the Ipod supplying the music for the party, and I quickly glance around to see how many of these faces are familiar ones. Cringing, I realize there are more than I would want.

I have literally walked into my worst nightmare, my own personal living hell. Luckily for me I happen to be wrapped around a 6 foot something tall well built man with eyes that look like they could rip anyone to pieces at the moment. Peeta has taken protecting me to a level I'm surprisingly comfortable with. The only people glancing our way are girls eyeing him, and dudes who quickly look away when he notices them. Maybe I'll make it out of this in one piece.

"Holy fuck that cannot be who I think it is."

Or maybe not.

My eyes dart to the left, my unprotected side, quickly, as I see a blonde girl staring at me like I just rose from the grave Lazarus style. Lura Clayton. Sarah Lawson's best friend. Fuck me in the ass twice.

I ignore her the best I can as Peeta and I try to make our way through the crowd to the couches Madge is most likely at, but Lura's hand on my arm stops us. Shit is she on steroids? When I finally look at her face I realize she's more likely on coke because she looks like a 2010 Lindsay Lohan wannabe. Her eyes are wide, and there's a grin on her face that doesn't at all look like she's hoping to catch up on old times. More like she's finally going to get to say whatever it is these shit holes have been waiting to say for the past 3 and a half years.

"I'm sorry did I invite you to touch all over my arm?" Maybe being a bitch from the get go isn't my best plan but I know what's coming and I have no desire to supply this bitch with any fake sincerity. I'm not about to waste that energy on her.

I can feel Peeta's grip on my shoulder tighten as he assesses the situation unfolding in front of us. I can see Sarah Lawson surrounded by girls I don't know as Lura (whose hand is still on my arm) gestures wildly to her to come and see. Fuck everything in the world that ever led to this moment.

"Still the same Katniss Everdeen aren't you? Don't like being touched unless it's by some guy." Lura sneers at me. By now my stare has shifted to her hand which is still somehow on my arm, and as I am considering the many things I could do to have it forcibly removed, biting it not completely off the option list yet, I hear Sarah's voice.

"Well look what the cat dragged in." She is standing next to Lura now, her face smug. I might as well throw myself into the ring.

"Seriously? That's the best line you could come up with? A better one would have been 'Well heavens almighty look what we have here!' It's much more dramatically satisfying since I assume that's what you were going for." I hear Peeta snort behind me, obviously enjoying what happens to me when my hackles are raised, and Sarah looks shocked I would say something like that to her. Mostly because I never really spoke to anyone when I was in school.

Sarah's features smooth over quickly, shock replaced by what I can only describe as "bitch face."

"Well you've definitely gotten more sassy haven't you? And tell me, do you know the name of this one?" She nods to Peeta before actually addressing him. "Hey handsome, I'd be careful around this one. Don't want to catch something."

Before Peeta can respond, which I know he wants to do, I hear myself doing so.

"Actually you little fuck twat, this is my boyfriend. Now how about instead of jumping to assumptions we end this nice little class reunion so I can get the fuck out of here?" I tug on Peeta's shirt with the hand I have wrapped around his waist, as to indicate my readiness to make a fucking beeline to the couch, but Sarah, the cunt that she is, decides to continue on with the humiliation parade.

"Oh please Katniss. No one believes this guy is your boyfriend. He's much too good looking and with your record I sincerely doubt anyone wants to be in a relationship with you. So blue eyes, what's your name? Want a drink?"

It's a good thing I don't carry a gun because killing her is a temptation even without one. I'm ready to fucking bury her when I hear Peeta speak.

"Wow babe you weren't kidding. She is a cunt."

I turn to Peeta quickly, my face probably one of pure shock. Not only did I not say that to him, but he just referred to me as babe. He's playing all of the pressure points I would want him too but would never ask. I have the biggest urge to just throw him against a wall and have my way with him, and he must be able to tell because as he looks at me, his smirk plays across his face.

"Excuse me?"

I turn to face Sarah and Lura again, sighing loudly.

"Seriously? Can we just go back to never talking to each other? Do you remember how nice that was?"

As the words leave my mouth, I watch as a tall muscular douche walks up behind Sarah and Lura, a grin plastered across his face. If there is proof that whatever god there is hates me, the fact that Chaff has seen me is absolute proof of it.

"Holy shit. If it isn't Pawnees own little home video porn star."

"See Sarah? Much better than 'Look what the cat dragged in'". I might as well go for gold if I'm going to suffer some public humiliation. It works because I get Sarah's ears to turn red at the top, and I've decided on a new game. How long until I can get both ears entirely red?

"Hey dude, watch what you fucking say." Peeta's voice is hard, and his grip on me changes, as he shifts to stand by my side, dropping his arm from around me, instead moving to stand slightly in front of me.

"Who the fuck are you?" Chaff is obviously drunk as shit, and sizing Peeta up. I'm pretty sure he is too drunk to realize Peeta would probably murder him in a fight.

"That's her boyfriend apparently." Lura speaks up, and I can't help but smirk a little. Same as high school. The constant third wheel.

Chaff's demeanor changes almost immediately, his smile growing wider by the second.

"Well dude, I'm sure you can appreciate what I'm talking about! I mean, they way those tits bounce is a sight to behold. Not the mention many girls do not know how to ride a man like that if you know what I mean." Chaff winks at Peeta, slapping a hand on his shoulder, and like that the steady tension that I've felt rising in Peeta seems to snap.

In mere seconds, Peeta has pushed Chaff backwards, into the wall behind him, and has his elbow placed against Chaff's throat. Chaff tries wildly to do anything to escape or to hurt Peeta, but Peeta has his knee placed on the inside of Chaff's thigh, making it hard for him to get any leverage to free himself. I've never seen Peeta this angry or this dangerous.

All of a sudden Madge appears at my side, having heard the commotion like the rest of the party.

"Holy shit Kat, what's going on."

"Chaff brought up the video." Is all I say to her, my eyes never leaving the two men in front of me.

"You may think it's real fucking funny to joke around about some douche that videos a girl without asking her but I don't think its funny, especially when that girl is my girlfriend. I could fucking kill you right now you pussy, do you understand that?"

Peeta is grinding his elbow into Chaff's throat, whose face is turning red as he wildly nods. I see Peeta take a few deep breaths before letting go of Chaff and backing away, before turning to me, a wild look in his eyes. I begin to walk towards him, to pull him out of here because it's obvious something really bad is going on in his head right now, but Chaff being the idiot he is, decides to retaliate rather than admit defeat. He punches Peeta in the back, and I watch as all the color on Peeta's face drains before turning red, his eyes so dark they almost look black.

He turns on Chaff, dodging the next punch before rearing back and hitting him so hard that Chaff falls to the ground. Peeta is on him in an instant, rearing back to hit him again, when I finally snap into action. Just as Peeta is landing a third punch on Chaff's already impressively bloody face, I reach him, placing my hands on his back.

Putting my hands on his shoulders I tug him lightly, carefully leaning forward to his ear.

"Peeta come on, he's not worth it. I've got Madge we can go. Please." My last plea seems to break him out of whatever trance he was in, and jerking himself backwards he scrambles off of Chaff, who sits up immediately and beings mopping the blood off of his face. Peeta stands shakily and I am at his side immediately, my arm wrapped around his waist once again, my other on his stomach, as I begin to lead him outside.

Thank god no cops showed up. As Madge, Peeta and I walk out the door I hear a girl say something that makes me smile. It was something along the lines of "It's time somebody put that asshole down." I couldn't agree more, but Peeta is shaking in my arms and I'm more than a little concerned about him right now. Maybe that person shouldn't have been Peeta.

We're all silent as we walk towards my car, and I pull my keys out of my pocket.

"Madge I know you're drunk but can you drive?"

She nods enthusiastically, her eyes full of worry, bouncing between Peeta and I as I put him in the back seat and run to the other side. As she drives I sit in the back next to Peeta, my hands on his face, smoothing the hair out of his eyes, as he seems to break apart in front of me.

When we pull into the apartment complex I hear Madge on the phone with Delly, probably seeing if she can crash there. That girl deserves a medal for knowing when to give people their space. We climb the stairs in silence, Madge and I sharing a look that ensures we will talk tomorrow as I lead Peeta inside my place. When I close the door I can hear Delly asking Madge what happened, but thankfully I don't hear a response.

Leading Peeta to my bedroom, I sit him down on my bed, before going about collecting bandages and peroxide to clean his knuckles with. He sits silently as I clean his hands, his normally expressive blue eyes dull and lifeless. When I'm finished I sit next to him, pulling him up to the headboard next to me, where he finally breaks his stone like mode.

His head comes to rest on my chest, and I rest my nose in his hair, wrapping my arms around him the best I can. These roles had been reversed a little over a day and a half ago, and I wasn't sure what it really meant. Now as I am sitting here holding this beautiful broken boy, who I just saw live out his nightmare, I feel a surge of protectiveness. My resolve is wavering so quickly but at this moment I can't over think it. He consumes me right now, more so than he did before. He told me he was broken, as broken as I am, but until tonight there had been no signs. We had a lopsided affair, focusing on my problems, my turmoil, but maybe that's why he's allowing me to comfort him right now. The fact that he knows I'm not going to run away scared from this. How could I? It's tearing me apart to feel him sobbing against my chest. But I can't help but think that if he is somehow the only person who has been able to really help me, maybe I can help him. Maybe we can both get better together.

"Katniss, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He finally breaks his silence, between heaving sobs, and I feel my own eyes watering at how fucking broken he sounds. It's tearing my heart apart.

I kiss the top of his head before responding.

"Peeta you have nothing to be sorry for." I say, repeating his words to me from when he comforted me after my nightmare.

"I could have hurt you. If I had hurt you I would have never…." His words dissolve into more body wracking sobs, and I cling to him as hard as I can.

"You didn't hurt me, and while we're on the subject, I believe, I truly believe you would never hurt me. You had control until Chaff pushed you. He hit you first."

He is silent at my words, working on controlling himself for a few minutes, before bringing his head off of my chest. He leans back against the headboard next to me, and I turn my body to face him, my hand on his chest. He looks up at the ceiling as if he is looking for answers up there, before he takes a deep breath to speak.

"I promised myself I wouldn't lose it like that ever again."

I wind my arm around his, laying my head on his shoulder.

"I don't think it really works like that." I mumble.

"I wish it did."

"Me too."

"I'm so tired of this shit. It makes me feel like a monster." I lift my head off of his shoulder, crawling into his lap.

"You are the furthest thing from a monster, Peeta. I know real life monsters, and you are definitely not one." He sighs deeply, resting his head on mine.

"What if I lose control around you? I know you say it won't happen but what if it did?"

"You won't." I can tell he is surprised at the finality in my tone when I answer, and frankly so am I. "You won't because you haven't given up on trying to keep control. When you give up and don't care is when you lost complete control."

"Is that what happened with you?" His voice is barely a whisper, he's afraid to ask such an intimate question I guess. Did I give up? Yeah. A long time ago and I've been spiraling in and out of the fucking depths since. Swallowing the lump in my throat I answer, barely audible.

"Yes."

He shifts our bodies, until we are lying down facing each other, wrapped around each other, the closeness something we both need badly.

"Do you want to start trying again?"

Do I? I don't even remember what it's like to give a shit, which is probably why the emotions Peeta brings out of me surprise me at every turn. Because I care, and I have a reason, for the first time in a long fucking time.

"Yeah, I guess I do. It's scary as shit though."

His hand comes to rest on my face as we lay there, his forehead pressing against mine.

"Yeah I know but I'll be here."

The strangest part of that is that I know he will be. I've barely known him for a month but already I can't imagine a day without him. And instead of scaring me shitless because of this need for him I've somehow developed, the only scary thing is the idea of losing him. I can never lose him. I don't think I'd survive it.

I nudge my forehead more firmly against his, taking his shirt in my hands, pulling my body as close to his as I possibly can. Not being close to him right now isn't an option, my body is craving it, and my mind needs it. Not it. _Him. _

I kiss him softly, a soft sound emitting from the back of my throat. Peeta's hand snakes up around my backside, and as the kiss slowly builds my leg hitches around his hip, pressing us together fully.

Maybe it wasn't time that I needed before I could be with Peeta. It was a grasp on what it is that he is to me. Or the self-realization that I'm falling for him. That I'm falling in love with him so quickly. That I need him like I need air.

The kiss builds slowly, our mouths finally parting open to deepen the kiss as we both breathe in through our noses for air. It's as if we can't part, as if even breathing is a hindrance. My hands release his shirt, opting to weave themselves into Peeta's hair as I use my leg that is hitched over his to roll us over so he is on top of me.

As our tongues meet, Peeta's hand slides down, hitching my leg up higher around his waist as he begins to grind slowly into me. I moan into his mouth, a high-pitched needy sound, as our tongues slowly work over each other. This kiss isn't urgent; it's patient, full of need and care. This is like nothing I have ever experienced and I have never been so fucking turned on.

I slowly work my hands from Peeta's hair down his back, to the end of his shirt, tugging on it. Taking the hint, he sits up, his eyes never leaving mine, before he slowly takes it off, tossing it on the floor beside the bed. My hands act on their own accord as they reach up and run themselves over his torso, my eyes drawn to that fucking happy trail of his like a magnet, until I rediscover his eyes.

My hands come to rest on his hips, done with their exploration, while his come to rest at the edge of my shirt, his eyes asking me if he can continue. Sitting up, we take my shirt off together, and I reach around slowly to take off my bra. I hate bras anyways, I don't like wearing them, and I'm especially upset at their existence now when I could already be unclothed instead of having to deal with this shit.

Once it's off Peeta and I sit, breathing heavily, taking in what it is that's happening.

Well Peeta's eyes are more so taking in my tits, but that is more than okay with me. They're small so I'm glad he likes them or seems to.

Once Peeta breaks out of his boob induced trance, his eyes come to rest on mine once again, full of what I would explain as tenderness.

"Katniss." He breathes my name. "Are you sure?"

I nod my head, and I can see Peeta swallow slowly, surely as nervous as I am.

And then my fucking mouth starts to move without my mind's consent.

"Peeta, I think I'm falling in love with you."

And it feels like everything stops.

Shit.

* * *

**Wow I wish I could say I knew that's how I was going to end this chapter, but I didn't however now I'm glad I did. **


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